\ 


THE    GUNS 
OF   SHILOH 


BOOKS  BY  JOSEPH  A.  ALTSHELER 

THE  FRENCH  AND  INDIAN  WAR  SERIES 
The  Hunters  of  the  Hills       The  Shadow  of  the  North 
The  Rulers   of   the    Lakes        The  Masters   of    the   Peaks 
The  Lords  of  the  Wild  The  Sun  of  Quebec 

THE  YOUNG  TRAILERS1  SERIES 
The  Young  Trailers  The  Free    Rangers 

The  Forest   Runners  The  Riflemen  of  the  Ohio 

The  Keepers  of  the  Trail         The  Scouts  of  the  Valley 
The  Eyes  of  the  Woods          The  Border  Watch 

THE  TEXAN   SERIES 

The  Texan  Star 
The  Texan   Scouts  The  Texan    Triumph 

THE  CIVIL  WAR  SERIES 

The  Guns    of    Bull    Run          The  Star  of  Gettysburg 
The  Guns    of    Shiloh  The  Rock  of  Chickamauga 

The  Scouts  of  Stonewall        The  Shades  of  the  Wilderness 
The  Sword  of  Antietam  The  Tree   of   Appomattox 

THE  GREAT  WEST  SERIES 
The  Lost   Hunters  The  Great  Sioux  Trail 

THE  WORLD  WAR  SERIES 

The  Guns  of  Europe 
The  Forest  of  Swords  The  Hosts  of  the  Air 

BOOKS'  NOT  IN  SERIES 

Apache  Gold  A   Soldier   of   Manhattan 

The  Quest    of    the    Four          The   Sun   of   Saratoga 
The  Last   of  the   Chiefs  A  Herald  of  the  West 

In  Circling  Camps  The  Wilderness   Road 

The  Last  Rebel  My  Captive 

The  Candidate 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 
New  York  London 


"He  had  a  small  sword,  and  snatching  it  out  he  waved  it." 

[PACE  227] 


THE   GUNS 
OF   SHILOH 

A  STORY:  OF  THE 
GREAT  WESTERN  CAMPAIGN 


BY 


JOSEPH  A.  ALTSHELER 

-S3. 
AUTHOR  OP  "  THE  GUNS  OP  BULL  HUN " 


D.  APPLETON  AND   COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

1925 


t,  1914,  BY 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


FOREWORD 

"The  Guns  of  Shiloh,"  a  complete  story  in  itself, 
is  the  complement  of  "The  Guns  of  Bull  Run."  In 
"The  Guns  of  Bull  Run"  the  Civil  War  and  its  be- 
ginnings are  seen  through  the  eyes  of  Harry  Kenton, 
who  is  on  the  Southern  side.  In  "The  Guns  of 
Shiloh"  the  mighty  struggle  takes  its  color  from  the 
view  of  Dick  Mason,  who  fights  for  the  North  and 
who  is  with  Grant  in  his  first  great  campaign. 


THE  CIVIL  WAJR  SERIES 

VOLUMES  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  SERIES 

THE  GUNS  OF  BULL  RUN. 
THE  GUNS  OF  SHILOH. 
THE  SCOUTS  OF  STONEWALL, 
THE  SWORD  OF  ANTIETAM. 
THE  STAR  OF  GETTYSBURG. 
THE  ROCK  OF  CHICKAMAUGA. 
THE  SHADES  OF  THE  WILDERNESS.  • 
THE  TREE  OF  APPOMATTOX. 

PRINCIPAL  CHARACTERS  IN  THE  CIVIL  WAR  SERIES 

HARRY  KENTON,  A  Lad  Who  Fights  on  the  Southern  Side. 

DICK  MASON,  Cousin  of  Harry  Kenton,  Who  Fights  on  the 
Northern  Side. 

COLONEL  GEORGE  KENTON,  Father  of  Harry  Kenton. 

MRS.  MASON,  Mother  of  Dick  Mason. 

JULIANA,  Mrs.  Mason's  Devoted  Colored  Servant. 

COLONEL  ARTHUR.  WINCHESTER,  Dick  Mason's  Regimental  Com- 
mander. 

COLONEL  LEONTDAS  TALBOT,  Commander  of  the  Invincibles,  a 
Southern  Regiment. 

LIEUTENANT  COLONEL  HECTOR  ST.  HrLAiRE,  Second  in  Com- 
mand of  the  Invincibles. 

'ALAN  HERTFORD,  A  Northern  Cavalry  Leader. 

PHILIP  SHERBURNE,  A  Southern  Cavalry  Leader. 

.WILLIAM  J.  SHEPARD,  A  Northern  Spy. 

DANIEL  WHITLEY,  A  Northern  Sergeant  and  Veteran  of  the 
Plains. 

GEORGE  WARNER,  A  Vermont  Youth  Who  Loves  Mathematics. 

PRANK  PENNTNGTON,  A  Nebraska  Youth,  Friend  of  Dick  Mason. 

ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR,  A  Native  of  Charleston,  Friend  of  Harry 
Kenton. 

TOM  LANGDON,  Friend  of  Harry  Kenton. 

GEORGE  DALTON,  Friend  of  Harry  Kenton. 

BILL  SKELLY,  Mountaineer  and  Guerrilla. 

TOM  SLADE,  A  Guerrilla  Chief. 

SAM  JARVIS,  The  Singing  Mountaineer.  • 

IKE  SIMMONS,  Jarvis'  Nephew. 


THE  CIVIL  WAR  SERIES 

AUNT  "SusE,"  A  Centenarian  and  Prophetess. 

BILL  PETTY,  A  Mountaineer  and  Guide. 

JULIEN  DE  LANGEAIS,  A  Musician  and  Soldier  from  Louisiana. 

JOHN  CARRINGTON,  Famous  Northern  Artillery  Officer. 

DR.  RUSSELL,  Principal  of  the  Pendleton  School. 

ARTHUR  TRAVERS,  A  Lawyer. 

JAMES  BERTRAND,  A  Messenger  from  the  South. 

JOHN  NEWCOMB,  A  Pennsylvania  Colonel. 

JOHN  MARKHAM,  A  Northern  Officer. 

JOHN  WATSON,  A  Northern  Contractor. 

WILLIAM  CURTIS,  A  Southern  Merchant  and  Blockade  Runner. 

MRS.  CURTIS,  Wife  of  William  Curtis. 

HENRIETTA  GARDEN,  A  Seamstress  in  Richmond. 

DICK  JONES,  A  North  Carolina  Mountaineer. 

VICTOR  WOODVILLE,  A  Young  Mississippi  Officer. 

JOHN  WOODVILLE,  Father  of  Victor  Woodville. 

CHARLES  WOODVILLE,  Uncle  of  Victor  Woodville. 

COLONEL  BEDFORD,  A  Northern  Officer. 

CHARLES  GORDON,  A  Southern  Staff  Officer. 

JOHN  LANHAM,  An  Editor. 

JUDGE  KENDRICK,  A  Lawyer. 

MR.  CULVER,  A  State  Senator. 

MR.  BRACKEN,  A  Tobacco  Grower. 

ARTHUR  WHITRIDGE,  A  State  Senator. 

HISTORICAL  CHARACTERS 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN,  President  of  the  United  States. 

JEFFERSON  DAVIS,  President  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

JUDAH  P.  BENJAMIN,  Member  of  the  Confederate  Cabinet. 

U.  S.  GRANT,  Northern  Commander. 

ROBERT  E.  LEE,  Southern  Commander. 

STONEWALL  JACKSON,  Southern  General. 

PHILIP  H.  SHERIDAN,  Northern  General. 

GEORGE  H.  THOMAS,  "The  Rock  of  Chickamauga." 

ALBERT  SIDNEY  JOHNSTON,  Southern  General. 

A.  P.  HILL,  Southern  General. 

W.  S.  HANCOCK,  Northern  General. 

GEORGE  B.  MCCLELLAN,  Northern  General. 

AMBROSE  E.  BURNSIDE,  Northern  General. 

TURNER  ASHBY,  Southern  Cavalry  Leader. 

J.  E.  B.  STUART,  Southern  Cavalry  Leader. 

JOSEPH  HOOKER,  Northern  General. 

RICHARD  S.  EWELL,  Southern  General. 

JUBAL  EARLY,  Southern  General. 

WILLIAM  S.  ROSECRANS,  Northern  General. 


THE  CIVIL  WAR  SERIES 

SIMON  BOLIVAR  BUCKNER,  Southern  General. 
LEONEDAS  POLK,  Southern  General  and  Bishop. 
BRAXTON  BRAGG,  Southern  General. 
NATHAN  BEDFORD  FORREST,  Southern  Cavalry  Leader. 
JOHN  MORGAN,  Southern  Cavalry  Leader. 
GEORGE  J.  MEADE,  Northern  General. 
DON  CARLOS  BUELL,  Northern  General. 
W.  T.  SHERMAN,  Northern  General. 
JAMES  LONGSTREET,  Southern  General. 
P.  G.  T.  BEAUREGARD,  Southern  General. 
WILLIAM  L.  YANCEY,  Alabama  Orator. 

JAMES  A.  GARFIELD,  Northern  General,  afterwards  President  of 
the  United  States. 

And  many  others 


IMPORTANT  BATTLES  DESCRIBED  IN 
THE  CIVIL  WAR  SERIES 

BULL  RUN 

KERNSTOWN 

CROSS  KEYS 

WINCHESTER 

PORT  REPUBLIC 

THE  SEVEN  DAYS  - 

MILL  SPRING 
PORT  DONELSONT 

SHILOH 

PERRYVJLLE 

STONE  RIVER 

THE  SECOND  MANASSAS 

ANTIETAM 

FREDERICKSBURG 

CHANCELLORSVILLE 

GETTYSBURG 
CHAMPION  Hm; 

VICKSBURG 

CHICKAMAUGA 

MISSIONARY  RIDGB 

THE  WILDERNESS 

SPOTTSYLVANIA, 

COLD  HARBOR 

FISHER'S  HILL 

CEDAR  CREEK 

APPOMATTOX 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACK 

I.    IN  FLIGHT I 

II.    THE  MOUNTAIN  LIGHTS 23 

III.  THE  TELEGRAPH  STATION 46 

IV.  THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  PASS 69 

V.     THE  SINGER  OF  THE  HILLS 87 

VI.    MILL   SPRING 104 

VII.     THE  MESSENGER 127 

VIII.    A  MEETING  AT  NIGHT 148 

IX.    TAKING  A  FORT 165 

X.    BEFORE  DONELSON 187 

XL     THE  SOUTHERN  ATTACK 211 

XII.    GRANT'S  GREAT  VICTORY 235 

XIII.  IN  THE  FOREST 259 

XIV.  THE  DARK  EVE  OF  SHILOH 283 

XV.    THE  RED  DAWN  OF  SHILOH 298 

XVI.  THE  FIERCE  FINISH  OF  SHILOH  ....  318 


THE    GUNS   OF   SHILOH 


CHAPTER  I 

IN    FLIGHT 

DICK  MASON,  caught  in  the  press  of  a  beaten 
army,  fell  back  slowly  with  his  comrades 
toward  a  ford  of  Bull  Run.  The  first  great 
battle  of  the  Civil  War  had  been  fought  and  lost 
Lost,  after  it  had  been  won !  Young  as  he  was  Dick 
knew  that  fortune  had  been  with  the  North  until  the 
very  closing  hour.  He  did  not  yet  know  how  it  had 
been  done.  He  did  not  know  how  the  Northern 
charges  had  broken  in  vain  on  the  ranks  of  Stonewall 
Jackson's  men.  He  did  not  know  how  the  fresh 
Southern  troops  from  the  Valley  of  Virginia  had 
hurled  themselves  so  fiercely  on  the  Union  flank.  But 
he  did  know  that  his  army  had  been  defeated  and  was 
retreating  on  the  capital. 

Cannon  still  thundered  to  right  and  left,  and  now 
and  then  showers  of  bursting  shell  sprayed  over  the 
heads  of  the  tired  and  gloomy  soldiers.  Dick,  thought- 
ful and  scholarly,  was  in  the  depths  of  a  bitterness  and 
despair  reached  by  few  of  those  around  him.  The 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Union,  the  Republic,  had  appealed  to  him  as  the  most 
glorious  of  experiments.  He  could  not  bear  to  see 
it  broken  up  for  any  cause  whatever.  It  had  been 
founded  with  too  much  blood  and  suffering  and  labor 
to  be  dissolved  in  a  day  on  a  Virginia  battlefield. 

But  the  army  that  had  almost  grasped  victory  was 
retreating,  and  the  camp  followers,  the  spectators  who 
had  come  out  to  see  an  easy  triumph,  and  some  of  the 
raw  recruits  were  running.  A  youth  near  Dick  cried 
that  the  rebels  fifty  thousand  strong  with  a  hundred 
guns  were  hot  upon  their  heels.  A  short,  powerful 
man,  with  a  voice  like  the  roar  of  thunder,  bade  him 
hush  or  he  would  feel  a  rifle  barrel  across  his  back. 
Dick  had  noticed  this  man,  a  sergeant  named  Whitley, 
who  had  shown  singular  courage  and  coolness 
throughout  the  battle,  and  he  crowded  closer  to  him 
for  companionship.  The  man  observed  the  action  and 
looked  at  him  with  blue  eyes  that  twinkled  out  of 
a  face  almost  black  with  the  sun. 

"Don't  take  it  so  hard,  my  boy,"  he  said.  "This 
battle's  lost,  but  there  are  others  that  won't  be.  Most 
of  the  men  were  raw,  but  they  did  some  mighty  good 
fightin',  while  the  regulars  an'  the  cavalry  are  coverin' 
the  retreat.  Beauregard's  army  is  not  goin'  to  sweep 
us  off  the  face  of  the  earth." 

His  words  brought  cheer  to  Dick,  but  it  lasted  only 
a  moment.  He  was  to  see  many  dark  days,  but  this 
perhaps  was  the  darkest  of  his  life.  His  heart  beat 
painfully  and  his  face  was  a  brown  mask  of  mingled 
dust,  sweat,  and  burned  gunpowder.  The  thunder  of 
the  Southern  cannon  behind  them  filled  him  with 

2 


IN    FLIGHT 

humiliation.  Every  bone  in  him  ached  after  such 
fierce  exertion,  and  his  eyes  were  dim  with  the  flare 
of  cannon  and  rifles  and  the  rolling  clouds  of  dust. 
He  was  scarcely  conscious  that  the  thick  and  powerful 
sergeant  had  moved  up  by  his  side  and  had  put  a  help- 
ing hand  under  his  arm. 

"Here  we  are  at  the  ford!"  cried  Whitley.  "Into 
it,  my  lad!  Ah,  how  good  the  water  feels!" 

Dick,  despite  those  warning  guns  behind  him,  would 
have  remained  a  while  in  Bull  Run,  luxuriating  in  the 
stream,  but  the  crowd  of  his  comrades  was  pressing 
hard  upon  him,  and  he  only  had  time  to  thrust  his 
face  into  the  water  and  to  pour  it  over  his  neck,  arms, 
and  shoulders.  But  he  was  refreshed  greatly.  Some 
of  the  heat  went  out  of  his  body,  and  his  eyes  and 
head  ached  less. 

The  retreat  continued  across  the  rolling  hills.  Dick 
saw  everywhere  arms  and  supplies  thrown  away  by 
the  fringe  of  a  beaten  army,  the  men  in  the  rear  who 
saw  and  who  spread  the  reports  of  panic  and  terror. 
But  the  regiments  were  forming  again  into  a  cohesive 
force,  and  behind  them  the  regulars  and  cavalry  in 
firm  array  still  challenged  pursuit.  Heavy  firing  was 
heard  again  under  the  horizon  and  word  came  that 
the  Southern  cavalry  had  captured  guns  and  wagons, 
but  the  main  division  maintained  its  slow  retreat  to- 
ward Washington. 

Now  the  cool  shadows  were  coming.  The  sun, 
which  had  shown  as  red  as  blood  over  the  field  that 
day,  was  sinking  behind  the  hills.  Its  fiery  rays  ceased 
to  burn  the  faces  of  the  men.  A  soft  healing  breeze 

3 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

stirred  the  leaves  and  grass.  The  river  of  Bull  Run 
and  the  field  of  Manassas  were  gone  from  sight,  and 
the  echo  of  the  last  cannon  shot  died  solemnly  on  the 
Southern  horizon.  An  hour  later  the  brigade  stopped 
in  the  wood,  and  the  exhausted  men  threw  themselves 
upon  the  ground.  They  were  so  tired  that  their  bodies 
were  in  pain  as  if  pricked  with  needles.  The  chagrin 
and  disgrace  of  defeat  were  forgotten  for  the  time  in 
the  overpowering  desire  for  rest. 

Dick  had  enlisted  as  a  common  soldier.  There  was 
no  burden  of  maintaining  order  upon  him,  and  he 
threw  himself  upon  the  ground  by  the  side  of  his  new 
friend,  Sergeant  Whitley.  His  breath  came  at  first 
in  gasps,  but  presently  he  felt  better  and  sat  up. 

It  was  now  full  night,  thrice  blessed  to  them  all, 
with  the  heat  and  dust  gone  and  no  enemy  near.  The 
young  recruits  had  recovered  their  courage.  The  ter- 
rible scenes  of  the  battle  were  hid  from  their  eyes, 
and  the  cannon  no  longer  menaced  on  the  horizon. 
The  sweet,  soothing  wind  blew  gently  over  the  hills 
among  which  they  lay,  and  the  leaves  rustled  peace- 
fully. 

Fires  were  lighted,  wagons  with  supplies  arrived, 
and  the  men  began  to  cook  food,  while  the  surgeons 
moved  here  and  there,  binding  up  the  wounds  of  the 
hurt.  The  pleasant  odors  of  coffee  and  frying  meat 
arose.  Sergeant  Whitley  stood  up  and  by  the  moon- 
light and  the  fires  scanned  the  country  about  them 
with  discerning  eye.  Dick  looked  at  him  with  re- 
newed interest.  He  was  a  man  of  middle  years,  but 
with  all  the  strength  and  elasticity  of  youth.  Despite 

4 


IN    FLIGHT 

his  thick  coat  of  tan  he  was  naturally  fair,  and  Dick 
noticed  that  his  hands  were  the  largest  that  he  had 
ever  seen  on  any  human  being.  They  seemed  to  the 
boy  to  have  in  them  the  power  to  strangle  a  bear. 
But  the  man  was  singularly  mild  and  gentle  in  his 
manner. 

"We're  about  half  way  to  Washington,  I  judge," 
he  said,  "an'  I  expect  a  lot  of  our  camp  followers  and 
grass-green  men  are  all  the  way  there  by  now,  tellin' 
Abe  Lincoln  an'  everybody  else  that  a  hundred  thou- 
sand rebels  fell  hard  upon  us  on  the  plain  of 
Manassas." 

He  laughed  deep  down  in  his  throat  and  Dick  again 
drew  courage  and  cheerfulness  from  one  who  had 
such  a  great  store  of  both, 

"How  did  it  happen?  Our  defeat,  I  mean,"  asked 
Dick.  "I  thought  almost  to  the  very  last  moment  that 
we  had  the  victory  won." 

"Their  reserves  came  an'  ours  didn't.  But  the  boys 
did  well.  Lots  worse  than  this  will  happen  to  us,  an* 
we'll  live  to  overcome  it.  I've  been  through  a  heap 
of  hardships  in  my  life,  Dick,  but  I  always  remember 
that  somebody  else  has  been  through  worse.  Let's 
go  down  the  hill.  The  boys  have  found  a  branch  an' 
are  washin'  up." 

By  "branch"  he  meant  a  brook,  and  Dick  went  with 
him  gladly.  They  found  a  fine,  clear  stream,  several 
feet  broad  and  a  foot  deep,  flowing  swiftly  between 
the  slopes,  and  probably  emptying  miles  further  on 
into  Bull  Run.  Already  it  was  lined  by  hundreds  of 
soldiers,  mostly  boys,  who  were  bathing  freely  in  its 

5 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

•cool  waters.  Dick  and  the  sergeant  joined  them  and 
with  the  sparkle  of  the  current  fresh  life  and  vigor 
flowed  into  their  veins. 

An  officer  took  command,  and  when  they  had  bathed 
their  faces,  necks,  and  arms  abundantly  they  were  al- 
lowed to  take  off  their  shoes  and  socks  and  put  their 
bruised  and  aching  feet  in  the  stream. 

"It  seems  to  me,  sergeant,  that  this  is  pretty  near 
to  Heaven,"  said  Dick  as  he  sat  on  the  bank  and  let 
the  water  swish  around  his  ankles. 

"It's  mighty  good.  There's  no  denyin'  it,  but  we'll 
move  still  a  step  nearer  to  Heaven,  when  we  get  our 
share  of  that  beef  an'  coffee,  which  I  now  smell  most 
appetizin'.  Hard  work  gives  a  fellow  a  ragin'  appe- 
tite, an'  I  reckon  fightin'  is  the  hardest  of  all  work. 
When  I  was  a  lumberman  in  Wisconsin  I  thought 
nothin'  could  beat  that,  but  I  admit  now  that  a  big 
battle  is  more  exhaustin'." 

"You've  worked  in  the  timber  then?" 

"From  the  time  I  was  twelve  years  old  'til  three 
or  four  years  ago.  If  I  do  say  it  myself,  there  wasn't 
a  man  in  all  Wisconsin,  or  Michigan  either,  who 
could  swing  an  axe  harder  or  longer  than  I  could.  I 
guess  you've  noticed  these  hands  of  mine." 

He  held  them  up,  and  they  impressed  Dick  more 
than  ever.  They  were  great  masses  of  bone  and 
muscle  fit  for  a  giant. 

"Paws,  the  boys  used  to  call  'em,"  resumed  Whit- 
ley  with  a  pleased  laugh.  "I  inherited  big  hands. 
Father  had  'em  an'  mother  had  'em,  too.  So  mine 
wonders  when  I  was  a  boy,  an'  when  you  add  to 
6 


IN    FLIGHT 

that  years  an'  years  with  the  axe,  an'  with  liftin'  an' 
rollin'  big  logs  I've  got  what  I  reckon  is  the  strongest 
pair  of  hands  in  the  United  States.  I  can  pull  a 
horseshoe  apart  any  time.  Mighty  useful  they  are, 
too,  as  I'm  likely  to  show  you  often." 

The  chance  came  very  soon.  A  frightened  horse, 
probably  with  the  memory  of  the  battle  still  lodged 
somewhere  in  his  animal  brain,  broke  his  tether  and 
came  charging  among  the  troops.  Whitley  made  one 
leap,  seized  him  by  the  bit  in  his  mighty  grasp  and 
hurled  him  back  on  his  haunches,  where  he  held  him 
until  fear  was  gone  from  him. 

"It  was  partly  strength  and  partly  sleight  of  hand, 
a  trick  that  I  learned  in  the  cavalry,"  he  said  to  Dick 
as  they  put  on  their  shoes.  "I  got  tired  of  lumberin' 
an'  I  wandered  out  west,  where  I  served  three  years 
on  horseback  in  the  regular  army,  fightin'  the  Indians. 
Good  fighters  they  are,  too.  Mighty  hard  to  put  your 
hand  on  'em.  Now  they're  there  an'  now  they  ain't. 
Now  you  see  'em  before  you,  an'  then  they're  behind 
you  aimin'  a  tomahawk  at  your  head.  They  taught 
us  a  big  lot  that  I  guess  we  can  use  in  this  war.  Come 
on,  Dick,  I  guess  them  banquet  halls  are  spread,  an' 
I  know  we're  ready." 

Not  much  order  was  preserved  in  the  beaten  bri- 
gade, which  had  become  separated  from  the  rest  of 
the  retreating  army,  but  the  spirits  of  all  were  rising 
and  that,  so  Sergeant  Whitley  told  Dick,  was  better 
just  now  than  technical  discipline.  The  Northern 
army  had  gone  to  Bull  Run  with  ample  supplies,  and 
now  they  lacked  for  nothing.  They  ate  long  and  well, 

7 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

and  drank  great  quantities  of  coffee.  Then  they  put 
out  the  fires  and  resumed  the  march  toward  Wash- 
ington. 

They  stopped  again  an  hour  or  two  after  midnight 
and  slept  until  morning.  Dick  lay  on  the  bare  ground 
under  the  boughs  of  a  great  oak  tree.  It  was  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  before  sleep  came,  because  his  nervous  sys- 
tem had  received  a  tremendous  wrench  that  day.  He 
closed  his  eyes  and  the  battle  passed  again  before 
them.  He  remembered,  too,  a  lightning  glimpse  of  a 
face,  that  of  his  cousin,  Harry  Kenton,  seen  but  an 
instant  and  then  gone.  He  tried  to  decide  whether 
it  was  fancy  or  reality,  and,  while  he  was  trying,  he 
fell  asleep  and  slept  as  one  dead. 

Dick  was  awakened  early  in  the  morning  by  Ser- 
geant Whitley,  who  was  now  watching  over  him  like 
an  elder  brother.  The  sun  already  rode  high  and  there 
was  a  great  stir  and  movement,  as  the  brigade  was 
forming  for  its  continued  retreat  on  the  capital.  The 
boy's  body  was  at  first  stiff  and  sore,  but  the  elasticity 
of  youth  returned  fast,  and  after  a  brief  breakfast  he 
was  fully  restored. 

Another  hot  day  had  dawned,  but  Dick  reflected 
grimly  that  however  hot  it  might  be  it  could  not  be 
as  hot  as  the  day  before  had  been.  Scouts  in  the 
night  had  brought  back  reports  that  the  Southern 
troops  were  on  the  northern  side  of  Bull  Run,  but  not 
in  great  force,  and  a  second  battle  was  no  longer 
feared.  The  flight  could  be  continued  without  inter- 
ruption over  the  hot  Virginia  fields. 

Much  of  Dick's  depression  returned  as  they  ad- 

8 


IN   FLIGHT 

vanced  under  the  blazing  sun,  but  Whitley,  who  seemed 
insensible  to  either  fatigue  or  gloom,  soon  cheered 
him  up  again. 

"They  talk  about  the  Southerners  comin'  on  an* 
takin'  Washington,"  he  said,  "but  don't  you  believe  it 
[They  haven't  got  the  forces,  an'  while  they  won  the 
victory  I  guess  they're  about  as  tired  as  we  are.  Our 
boys  talk  about  a  hundred  thousand  rebels  jumpin' 
on  'em,  an'  some  felt  as  if  they  was  a  million,  but 
they  weren't  any  more  than  we  was,  maybe  not  as 
many,  an'  when  they  are  all  stove  up  themselves  how 
can  they  attack  Washington  in  its  fortifications! 
Don't  be  so  troubled,  boy.  The  Union  ain't  smashed 
up  yet.  Just  recollect  whenever  it's  dark  that  light's 
bound  to  come  later  on.  What  do  you  say  to  that, 
Long  Legs?" 

He  spoke  to  a  very  tall  and  very  thin  youth*  who 
marched  about  a  half  dozen  feet  away  from  them. 
The  boy,  who  seemed  to  be  about  eighteen  years  of 
age,  turned  to  them  a  face  which  was  pale  despite  the 
Virginia  sun.  But  it  was  the  pallor  of  indoor  life, 
not  of  fear,  as  the  countenance  was  good  and  strong, 
long,  narrow,  the  chin  pointed,  the  nose  large  and 
bridged  like  that  of  an  old  Roman,  the  eyes  full  blue 
and  slightly  nearsighted.  But  there  was  a  faint 
twinkle  in  those  same  nearsighted  eyes  as  he  replied 
in  precise  tones: 

"According  to  all  the  experience  of  centuries  and 
all  the  mathematical  formulae  that  can  be  deduced 
therefrom  night  is  bound  to  be  followed  by  day.  We 
have  been  whipped  by  the  rebels,  but  it  follows  with 

9 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

arithmetical  certainty  that  if  we  keep  on  fighting  long 
enough  we  will  whip  them  in  time.  Let  x  equal  time 
and  y  equal  opportunity.  Then  when  x  and  3;  come 
together  we  shall  have  x  plus  3;  which  will  equal 
success.  Does  my  logic  seem  cogent  to  you,  Mr. 
Big  Shoulders  and  Big  Hands?" 

Whitley  stared  at  him  in  amazement  and  admira- 
tion. 

"I  haven't  heard  so  many  big  words  in  a  long  time," 
he  said,  "an'  then,  too,  you  bring  'em  out  so  nice  an' 
smooth,  marchin'  in  place  as  regular  as  a  drilled 
troop." 

"I've  been  drilled  too,"  said  the  tall  boy,  smiling. 
"My  name  is  George  Warner,  and  I  come  from  Ver- 
mont. I  began  teaching  a  district  school  when  I  was 
sixteen  years  old,  and  I  would  be  teaching  now,  if  it 
were  not  for  the  war.  My  specialty  is  mathematics. 
X  equals  the  war,  y  equals  me  and  x  plus  y  equals  me 
in  the  war." 

"Your  name  is  Warner  and  you  are  from  Ver- 
mont," said  Dick  eagerly.  "Why,  there  was  a  War- 
ner who  struck  hard  for  independence  at  Bennington 
in  the  Revolution." 

"That's  my  family,"  replied  the  youth  proudly. 
"Seth  Warner  delivered  a  mighty  blow  that  helped  to 
form  this  Union,  and  although  I  don't  know  much 
except  to  teach  school  I'm  going  to  put  in  a  little  one 
to  help  save  it.  X  equalled  the  occasion,  y  equalled 
my  willingness  to  meet  it,  and  x  plus  y  have  brought 
me  here." 

Dick  told  who  he  and  Whitley  were,  and  he  felt  at 

10 


IN   FLIGHT 

once  that  he  and  this  long  and  mathematical  Vermont 
lad  were  going  to  be  friends.  Whitley  also  continued 
to  look  upon  Warner  with  much  favor. 

"I  respect  anybody  who  can  talk  in  mathematics  as 
you  do,"  he  said.  "Now  with  me  I  never  know  what 
x  equals  an'  I  never  know  what  y  equals,  so  if  I 
was  to  get  x  an'  y  together  they  might  land  me  about 
ten  thousand  miles  from  where  I  wanted  to  be.  But 
a  fellow  can  bend  too  much  over  books.  That's 
what's  the  matter  with  them  eyes  of  yours,  which  I 
notice  always  have  to  take  two  looks  where  I  take 
only  one." 

"You  are  undoubtedly  right,"  replied  Warner. 
"My  relatives  told  me  that  I  needed  some  fresh  air, 
and  I  am  taking  it,  although  the  process  is  attended 
with  certain  risks  from  bullets,  swords,  bayonets,  can- 
non balls,  and  shells.  Still,  I  have  made  a  very  close 
mathematical  calculation.  At  home  there  is  the  chance 
of  disease  as  well  as  here.  At  home  you  may  fall 
from  a  cliff,  you  may  be  drowned  in  a  creek  or  river 
while  bathing,  a  tree  may  fall  on  you,  a  horse  may 
throw  you  and  break  your  neck,  or  you  may  be  caught 
in  a  winter  storm  and  freeze  to  death.  But  even  if 
none  of  these  things  happens  to  you,  you  will  die  some 
day  anyhow.  Now,  my  figures  show  me  that  the 
chance  of  death  here  in  the  war  is  only  twenty-five 
per  cent  greater  than  it  was  at  home,  but  physical 
activity  and  an  open  air  continuously  increase  my  life 
chances  thirty-five  per  cent.  So,  I  make  a  net  life 
gain  of  ten  per  cent." 

Whitley  put  his  hand  upon  Warner's  shoulder. 

ii 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

"Boy,"  he  said,  "y°u're  wonderful.  I  can  cheer 
up  the  lads  by  talkin'  of  the  good  things  to  come,  but 
you  can  prove  by  arithmetic,  algebra  an'  every  other 
kind  of  mathematics  that  they're  bound  to  come. 
You're  goin'  to  be  worth  a  lot  wherever  you  are." 

"Thanks  for  your  enconiums.  In  any  event  we  are 
gaining  valuable  experience.  Back  there  on  the  field 
of  Bull  Run  I  was  able  to  demonstrate  by  my  own 
hearing  and  imagination  that  a  hundred  thousand 
rebels  could  fire  a  million  bullets  a  minute ;  that  every 
one  of  those  million  bullets  filled  with  a  mortal  spite 
against  me  was  seeking  my  own  particular  person." 

Whitley  gazed  at  him  again  with  admiration. 

"You've  certainly  got  a  wonderful  fine  big  bag  of 
words,"  he  said,  "an'  whenever  you  need  any  you 
just  reach  in  an'  take  out  a  few  a  foot  long  or  so. 
But  I  reckon  a  lot  of  others  felt  the  way  you  did, 
though  they  won't  admit  it  now.  Look,  we're  nearly 
to  Washington  now.  See  the  dome  of  the  Capitol 
over  the  trees  there,  an'  I  can  catch  glimpses  of  roofs 
too." 

Dick  and  George  also  saw  the  capital,  and  cheered 
by  the  sight,  they  marched  at  a  swifter  gait.  Soon 
they  turned  into  the  main  road,  where  the  bulk  of  the 
army  had  already  passed  and  saw  swarms  of  strag- 
glers ahead  of  them.  Journalists  and  public  men  met 
them,  and  Dick  now  learned  how  the  truth  about  Bull 
Run  had  come  to  the  capital.  The  news  of  defeat 
had  been  the  more  bitter,  because  already  they  had 
been  rejoicing  there  over  success.  As  late  as  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  telegraph  had  informed 

12 


IN   FLIGHT 

Washington  of  victory.  Then,  after  a  long  wait,  had 
come  the  bitter  despatch  telling  of  defeat,  and  flying 
fugitives  arriving  in  the  night  had  exaggerated  it  ten- 
fold. 

The  division  to  which  Dick,  Warner,  and  Whitley 
belonged  marched  over  the  Long  Bridge  and  camped 
near  the  capital  where  they  would  remain  until  sent  on 
further  service.  Dick  now  saw  that  the  capital  was  in 
no  danger.  Troops  were  pouring  into  it  by  every 
train  from  the  north  and  west.  All  they  needed  was 
leadership  and  discipline.  Bull  Run  had  stung,  but 
it  did  not  daunt  them  and  they  asked  to  be  led  again 
against  the  enemy.  They  heard  that  Lincoln  had  re- 
ceived the  news  of  the  defeat  with  great  calmness,  and 
that  he  had  spent  most  of  a  night  in  his  office  listen- 
ing to  the  personal  narratives  of  public  men  who  had 
gone  forth  to  see  the  battle,  and  who  at  its  conclusion 
had  left  with  great  speed. 

"Lots  of  people  have  laughed  at  Abe  Lincoln  an* 
have  called  him  only  a  rail-splitter,"  said  Whitley, 
"but  I  heard  him  two  or  three  times,  when  he  was 
campaignin'  in  Illinois,  an'  I  tell  you  he's  a  man." 

"He  was  born  in  my  state,"  said  Dick,  "and  I  mean 
to  be  proud  of  him.  He'll  have  support,  too.  Look 
how  the  country  is  standing  by  him!" 

More  than  once  in  the  succeeding  days  Dick  Ma- 
son's heart  thrilled  at  the  mighty  response  that  came 
to  the  defeat  of  Bull  Run.  The  stream  of  recruits 
pouring  into  the  capital  never  ceased.  He  now  saw 
men,  and  many  boys,  too,  like  himself,  from  every 
state  north  of  the  Ohio  River  and  from  some  south 

13 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

of  it.  Dan  Whitley  met  old  logging  friends  from 
Wisconsin  whom  he  had  not  seen  in  years,  and  George 
Warner  saw  two  pupils  of  his  as  old  as  himself. 

Dick  had  inherited  a  sensitive  temperament,  one 
that  responded  quickly  and  truthfully  to  the  events 
occurring  about  him,  and  he  foresaw  the  beginning  of 
a  mighty  struggle.  Here  in  the  capital,  resolution 
was  hardening  into  a  fight  to  the  finish,  and  he  knew 
from  his  relatives  when  he  left  Kentucky  that  the 
South  was  equally  determined.  There  was  an  appar- 
ent pause  in  hostilities,  but  he  felt  that  the  two  sec- 
tions were  merely  gathering  their  forces  for  a  mightier 
conflict. 

His  comrades  and  he  had  little  to  do,  and  they  had 
frequent  leaves  of  absence.  On  one  of  them  they 
saw  a  man  of  imposing  appearance  pass  down  Penn^ 
sylvania  Avenue.  He  would  have  caught  the  attention 
of  anybody,  owing  to  his  great  height  and  splendid 
head  crowned  with  snow-white  hair.  He  was  old,  but 
he  walked  as  if  he  were  one  who  had  achieved  greatly, 
and  was  conscious  of  it. 

"It's  old  Fuss  and  Feathers  his  very  self,"  said 
Whitley. 

"General  Scott.  It  can  be  no  other,"  said  Dick, 
•who  had  divined  at  once  the  man's  identity.  His  eyes 
followed  the  retreating  figure  with  the  greatest  in- 
terest. This  was  the  young  hero  of  the  War  of  1812 
and  the  great  commander  who  had  carried  the  bril- 
liant campaign  into  the  capital  of  Mexico.  He  had 
been  the  first  commander-in-chief  of  the  Northern 
army,  and,  foreseeing  the  great  scale  of  the  coming 

14 


IN   FLIGHT 

war,  had  prepared  a  wide  and  cautious  plan.  But  the 
public  had  sneered  at  him  and  had  demanded  instant 
action,  the  defeat  at  Bull  Run  being  the  result. 

Dick  felt  pity  for  the  man  who  was  forced  to  bear 
a  blame  not  his  own,  and  who  was  too  old  for  another 
chance.  But  he  knew  that  the  present  cloud  would 
soon  pass  away,  and  that  he  would  be  remembered  as 
the  man  of  Chippewa  and  Chapultepec. 

"McClellan  is  already  here  to  take  his  place,"  said 
Whitley.  "He's  the  young  fellow  who  has  been  win- 
ning successes  in  the  western  part  of  Virginia,  an*  they; 
say  he  has  genius." 

Only  a  day  or  two  later  they  saw  McClellan  walk- 
ing down  the  same  avenue  with  the  President.  Dick 
had  never  beheld  a  more  striking  contrast.  The 
President  was  elderly,  of  great  height,  his  head  sur- 
mounted by  a  high  silk  hat  which  made  him  look  yet 
taller,  while  his  face  was  long,  melancholy,  and 
wrinkled  deeply.  His  collar  had  wilted  with  the  heat 
and  the  tails  of  his  long  black  coat  flapped  about  his 
legs. 

The  general  was  clothed  in  a  brilliant  uniform.  He 
was  short  and  stocky  and  his  head  scarcely  passed  the 
President's  shoulder.  He  was  redolent  of  youth  and 
self  confidence.  It  showed  in  his  quick,  eager  ges- 
tures and  his  emphatic  manner.  He  attracted  the  two 
boys,  but  the  sergeant  shook  his  head  somewhat 
solemnly. 

"They  say  Scott  was  too  old,"  he  said,  "an'  now 
they've  gone  to  the  other  end  of  it.  McClellan's  too 
young  to  handle  the  great  armies  that  are  going  into 

15 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

the  field.  I'm  afraid  he  won't  be  a  match  for  them 
old  veterans  like  Johnston  and  Lee." 

"Napoleon  became  famous  all  over  the  world  when 
he  was  only  twenty-six,"  said  Warner. 

"That's  so,"  retorted  Whitley,  "but  I  never  heard 
of  any  other  Napoleon.  The  breed  began  and  quit 
with  him." 

But  the  soldiers  crowding  the  capital  had  full  con- 
fidence in  "Little  Mac,"  as  they  had  already  begun  to 
call  him.  Those  off  duty  followed  and  cheered  him 
and  the  President,  until  they  entered  the  White  House 
and  disappeared  within  its  doors.  Dick  and  his  friends 
were  in  the  crowd  that  followed,  although  they  did 
not  join  in  the  cheers,  not  because  they  lacked  faith, 
but  because  all  three  were  thoughtful.  Dick  had  soon 
discovered  that  Whitley,  despite  his  lack  of  education, 
was  an  exceedingly  observant  man,  with  a  clear  and 
reasoning  mind. 

"It  was  a  pair  worth  seeing,"  said  the  sergeant,  as 
they  turned  away,  "but  I  looked  a  lot  more  at  Old 
Abe  than  I  did  at  "Little  Mac."  Did  you  ever  think, 
boys,  what  it  is  to  have  a  big  war  on  your  hands,  with 
all  sorts  of  men  tellin'  you  all  sorts  of  things  an'  try- 
in'  to  pull  you  in  all  sorts  of  directions?" 

"I  had  not  thought  of  it  before,  but  I  will  think  of 
it  now,"  said  Warner.  "In  any  event,  we  are  quite 
sure  that  the  President  has  a  great  task  before  him.  We 
hear  that  the  South  will  soon  have  a  quarter  of  a 
million  troops  in  the  field.  Her  position  on  the  defen- 
sive is  perhaps  worth  as  many  more  men  to  her. 
Hence  let  x  equal  her  troops,  let  y  equal  her  defensive, 

16 


IN    FLIGHT 

and  we  have  x  plus  y,  which  is  equal  to  half  a  million 
men,  the  number  we  must  have  before  we  can  meet  the 
South  on  equal  terms." 

"An'  to  conquer  her  completely  we'll  need  nigh  on 
to  a  million."  said  the  sergeant. 

Shrewd  and  penetrating  as  was  Sergeant  Whitley 
he  did  not  dream  that  before  the  giant  struggle  was 
over  the  South  would  have  tripled  her  defensive  quar- 
ter of  a  million  and  the  North  would  almost  have 
tripled  her  invading  million. 

A  few  days  later  their  regiment  marched  out  of  the 
capital  and  joined  the  forces  on  the  hills  around  Ar- 
lington, where  they  lay  for  many  days,  impatient  but 
inactive.  There  was  much  movement  in  the  west,  and 
they  heard  of  small  battles  in  which  victory  and  defeat 
were  about  equal.  The  boys  had  shown  so  much 
zeal  and  ability  in  learning  soldierly  duties  that  they 
were  made  orderlies  by  their  colonel,  John  Newcomb, 
a  taciturn  Pennsylvanian,  a  rich  miner  who  had  raised 
a  regiment  partly  at  his  own  expense,  and  who  showed 
a  great  zeal  for  the  Union.  He,  too,  was  learning 
how  to  be  a  soldier  and  he  was  not  above  asking  ad- 
vice now  and  then  of  a  certain  Sergeant  Whitley  who 
had  the  judgment  to  give  it  in  the  manner  befitting  one 
of  his  lowly  rank. 

The  summer  days  passed  slowly  on.  The  heat  was 
intense.  The  Virginia,  hills  and  plains  fairly  shim- 
mered under  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun.  But  still 
they  delayed.  Congress  had  shown  the  greatest  cour- 
age, meeting  on  the  very  day  that  the  news  of  Bull 
Run  had  come,  and  resolving  to  fight  the  war  to  a  suc- 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

cessful  end,  no  matter  what  happened.  But  while 
McClellan  was  drilling  and  preparing,  the  public  again 
began  to  call  for  action.  "On  to  Richmond!"  was  the 
cry,  but  despite  it  the  army  did  not  yet  move. 

European  newspapers  came  in,  and  almost  with- 
out exception  they  sneered  at  the  Northern  troops,  and 
predicted  the  early  dissolution  of  the  Union.  Mon- 
archy and  privileged  classes  everywhere  rejoiced  at 
the  disaster  threatening  the  great  republic,  and  now 
that  it  was  safe  to  do  so,  did  not  hesitate  to  show 
their  delight.  Sensitive  and  proud  of  his  country, 
Dick  was  cut  to  the  quick,  but  Warner  was  more 
phlegmatic. 

"Let  'em  bark,"  he  said.  "They  bark  because  they 
dislike  us,  and  they  dislike  us  because  they  fear  us. 
We  threatened  Privilege  when  our  Revolution  suc- 
ceeded and  the  Republic  was  established.  The  fact  of 
our  existence  was  the  threat  and  the  threat  has  in- 
creased with  our  years  and  growth.  Europe  is  for  the 
South,  but  the  reason  for  it  is  one  of  the  simplest 
problems  in  mathematics.  Ten  per  cent  of  it  is  ad- 
miration for  the  Southern  victory  at  Bull  Run,  and 
ninety  per  cent  of  it  is  hatred — at  least  by  their  rul- 
ing classes — of  republican  institutions,  and  a  wish  to 
see  them  fall  here." 

"I  suspect  you're  right,"  said  Dick,  "and  we'll  have 
to  try  all  the  harder  to  keep  them  from  being  3 
failure.  Look,  there  goes  our  balloon!" 

Every  day,  usually  late  in  the  afternoon,  a  captive 
balloon  rose  from  the  Northern  camp,  and  officers 
with  powerful  glasses  inspected  the  Southern  posi- 

18 


IN    FLIGHT 

tion,  watching  for  an  advance  or  a  new  movement  of 
any  kind. 

"I'm  going  up  in  it  some  day,"  said  Dick,  confi- 
dently. "Colonel  Newcomb  has  promised  me  that 
he  will  take  me  with  him  when  his  turn  for  the  ascen- 
sion comes." 

The  chance  was  a  week  in  coming,  a  tremendously 
long  time  it  seemed  to  Dick,  but  it  came  at  last.  He 
climbed  into  the  basket  with  Colonel  Newcomb,  two 
generals,  and  the  aeronauts  and  sat  very  quiet  in  a 
corner.  He  felt  an  extraordinary  thrill  when  the  ropes 
were  allowed  to  slide  and  the  balloon  was  slowly  go- 
ing almost  straight  upward.  The  sensation  was  some- 
what similar  to  that  which  shook  him  when  he  went 
into  battle  at  Bull  Run,  but  pride  came  to  his  rescue 
and  he  soon  forgot  the  physical  tremor  to  watch  the 
world  that  now  rolled  beneath  them,  a  world  that  they 
seemed  to  have  left,  although  the  ropes  always  held. 

Dick's  gaze  instinctively  turned  southward,  where 
he  knew  the  Confederate  army  lay.  A  vast  and  beau- 
tiful panorama  spread  in  a  semi-circle  before  him. 
The  green  of  summer,  the  green  that  had  been  stained 
so  fearfully  at  Bull  Run,  was  gone.  The  grass  was 
now  brown  from  the  great  heats  and  the  promise  of 
autumn  soon  to  come,  but — from  the  height  at  least — 
it  was  a  soft  and  mellow  brown,  and  the  dust  was 
gone. 

The  hills  rolled  far  away  southward,  and  under  the 
horizon's  rim.  Narrow  ribbons  of  silver  here  and 
there  were  the  numerous  brooks  and  creeks  that  cut 
the  country.  Groves,  still  heavy  and  dark  with  foli- 

19 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

age,  hung  on  the  hills,  or  filled  some  valley,  like  green 
in  a  bowl.  Now  and  then,  among  clumps  of  trees, 
colonial  houses  with  their  pillared  porticoes  appeared. 

It  was  a  rare  and  beautiful  scene,  appealing  with 
great  force  to  Dick.  There  was  nothing  to  tell  of  war 
save  the  Northern  forces  just  beneath  them,  and  he 
would  not  look  down.  But  he  did  look  back,  and  saw 
the  broad  band  of  the  Potomac,  and  beyond  it  the 
white  dome  of  the  Capitol  and  the  roof  of  Wash- 
ington. But  his  gaze  turned  again  to  the  South,  where 
his  absorbing  interest  lay,  and  once  more  he  viewed 
the  quiet  country,  rolling  away  until  it  touched  the 
horizon  rim.  The  afternoon  was  growing  late,  and 
great  terraces  of  red  and  gold  were  heaping  above  one 
another  in  the  sky  until  they  reached  the  zenith. 

"Try  the  glasses  for  a  moment,  Dick,"  said  Colonel 
Newcomb,  as  he  passed  them  to  the  boy. 

Dick  swept  them  across  the  South  in  a  great  semi- 
circle, and  now  new  objects  rose  upon  the  surface  of 
the  earth.  He  saw  distinctly  the  long  chain  of  the 
Blue  Ridge  rising  on  the  west,  then  blurring  in  the 
distance  into  a  solid  black  rampart.  In  the  south  he 
saw  a  long  curving  line  of  rising  blue  plumes.  It  did 
not  need  Colonel  Newcomb  to  tell  him  that  these  were 
the  campfires  of  the  army  that  they  had  met  on  the 
field  of  Bull  Run,  and  that  the  Southern  troops  were 
now  cooking  their  suppers. 

No  doubt  his  cousin  Harry  was  there  and  perhaps 
others  whom  he  knew.  The  fires  seemed  to  Dick  a 
defiance  to  the  Union.  Well,  in  view  of  their  victory, 
the  defiance  was  justified,  and  those  fires  might  come 

20 


IN    FLIGHT 

nearer  yet.  Dick,  catching  the  tone  of  older  men  who 
shared  his  views,  had  not  believed  at  first  that  the 
rebellion  would  last  long,  but  his  opinion  was  chang- 
ing fast,  and  the  talk  of  wise  Sergeant  Whitley  was 
helping  much  in  that  change. 

While  he  yet  looked  through  the  glasses  he  saw 
a  plume  of  white  smoke  coming  swiftly  towards  the 
Southern  fires.  Then  he  remembered  the  two  lines  of 
railroad  that  met  on  the  battlefield,  giving  it  its  other 
name,  Manassas  Junction,  and  he  knew  that  the  smoke 
came  from  an  engine  pulling  cars  loaded  with  supplies 
for  their  foes. 

He  whispered  of  the  train  as  he  handed  the  glasses 
back  to  Colonel  Newcomb,  and  then  the  colonel  and 
the  generals  alike  made  a  long  examination. 

"Beauregard  will  certainly  have  an  abundance  of 
supplies,"  said  one  of  the  generals.  "I  hear  that  arms 
and  provisions  are  coming  by  every  train  from  the 
South,  and  meanwhile  we  are  making  no  advance." 

"We  can't  advance  yet,"  said  the  other  general  em- 
phatically. "McClellan  is  right  in  making  elaborate 
preparations  and  long  drills  before  moving  upon  the 
enemy.  It  was  inexperience,  and  not  want  of  courage, 
that  beat  us  at  Bull  Run." 

"The  Southerners  had  the  same  inexperience." 

"But  they  had  the  defensive.  I  hear  that  Tom 
Jackson  saved  them,  and  that  they  have  given  him  the 
name  Stonewall,  because  he  stood  so  firm.  I  was  at 
West  Point  with  him.  An  odd,  awkward  fellow,  but 
one  of  the  hardest  students  I  have  ever  known.  The 
boys  laughed  at  him  when  he  first  came,  but  they  soon 

21 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

stopped.  He  had  a  funny  way  of  studying,  standing 
up  with  his  book  on  a  shelf,  instead  of  sitting  down  at 
a  desk.  Said  his  brain  moved  better  that  way.  I've 
heard  that  he  walked  part  of  the  way  from  Virginia 
to  reach  West  Point.  I  hear  now,  too,  that  he  is  very 
religious,  and  always  intends  to  pray  before  going 
into  battle." 

"That's  a  bad  sign — for  us,"  said  the  other  gen- 
eral. "It's  easy  enough  to  sneer  at  praying  men,  but 
just  you  remember  Cromwell.  I'm  a  little  shaky  on 
my  history,  but  I've  an  impression  that  when  Crom- 
well, the  Ironsides,  old  Praise-God-Barebones,  and  the 
rest  knelt,  said  a  few  words  to  their  God,  sang  a  lit- 
tle and  advanced  with  their  pikes,  they  went  wherever 
they  intended  to  go  and  that  Prince  Rupert  and  all  the 
Cavaliers  could  not  stop  them." 

"It  is  so,"  said  the  other  gravely.  "A  man  who 
believes  thoroughly  in  his  God,  who  is  not  afraid  to 
die,  who,  in  fact,  rather  favors  dying  on  the  field,  is 
an  awful  foe  to  meet  in  battle." 

"We  may  have  some  of  the  same  on  our  side,"  said 
Colonel  Newcomb.  "We  have  at  least  a  great  Puritan 
population  from  which  to  draw." 

One  of  the  generals  gave  the  signal  and  the  balloon 
was  slowly  pulled  down.  Dick,  grateful  for  his  ex- 
perience, thanked  Colonel  Newcomb  and  rejoined  his 
comrades. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   MOUNTAIN  LIGHTS 

WHEN  Dick  left  the  balloon  it  was  nearly 
night.  Hundreds  of  campfires  lighted  up 
the  hills  about  him,  but  beyond  their  circle 
the  darkness  enclosed  everything.  He  still  felt  the 
sensations  of  one  who  had  been  at  a  great  height  and 
who  had  seen  afar.  That  rim  of  Southern  campfires 
was  yet  in  his  mind,  and  he  wondered  why  the  North- 
ern commander  allowed  them  to  remain  week  after 
week  so  near  the  capital.  He  was  fully  aware,  be- 
cause it  was  common  talk,  that  the  army  of  the  Union 
had  now  reached  great  numbers,  with  a  magnificent 
equipment,  and,  with  four  to  one,  should  be  able  to 
drive  the  Southern  force  away.  Yet  McClellan  de- 
layed. 

Dick  obtained  a  short  leave  of  absence,  and  walked 
to  a  campfire,  where  he  knew  he  would  find  his  friend, 
George  Warner.  Sergeant  Whitley  was  there,  too, 
showing  some  young  recruits  how  to  cook  without 
waste,  and  the  two  gave  the  boy  a  welcome  that  waks 
both  inquisitive  and  hearty. 

"You've  been  up  in  the  balloon,"  said  Warner.  "It 
was  a  rare  chance." 

23 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"Yes,"  replied  Dick  with  a  laugh,  "I  left  the  world, 
and  it  is  the  only  way  in  which  I  wish  to  leave  it  for 
the  next  sixty  or  seventy  years.  It  was  a  wonderful 
sight,  George,  and  not  the  least  wonderful  tiling  in  it 
was  the  campfires  of  the  Southern  army,  burning  down 
there  towards  Bull  Run." 

"Burnin'  where  they  ought  not  to  be,"  said  Whit- 
ley — no  gulf  was  yet  established  between  commis- 
sioned and  non-commissioned  officers  in  either  army. 
"Little  Mac  may  be  a  great  organizer,  as  they  say, 
but  you  can  keep  on  organizin'  an'  organizing  until 
it's  too  late  to  do  what  you  want  to  do." 

"It's  a  sound  principle  that  you  lay  down,  Mr.  Whit- 
ley,"  said  Warner  in  his  precise  tones.  "In  fact,  it 
may  be  reduced  to  a  mathematical  formula.  Delay  is 
always  a  minus  quantity  which  may  be  represented  by 
y.  Achievement  is  represented  by  x,  and,  conse- 
quently, when  you  have  achievement  hampered  by 
delay  you  have  x  minus  y,  which  is  an  extremely 
doubtful  quantity,  often  amounting  to  failure." 

"I  travel  another  road  in  my  reckonin's,"  said  Whit- 
ley,  "I  don't  know  anything  about  x  and  y,  but  I 
guess  you  an'  me,  George,  come  to  the  same  place. 
It's  been  a  full  six  weeks  since  Bull  Run,  an'  we  haven't 
done  a  thing." 

Whitley,  despite  their  difference  in  rank,  could  not 
yet  keep  from  addressing  the  boys  by  their  first  names. 
But  they  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  in  view  of  the 
fact  that  he  was  so  much  older  than  they  and  vastly 
their  superior  in  military  knowledge. 

"Dick,"  continued  the  sergeant,  "what  was  it  you 

24 


THE    MOUNTAIN   LIGHTS 

was  sayin'  about  a  cousin  of  yours  from  the  same 
town  in  Kentucky  bein'  out  there  in  the  Southern 
army?" 

"He's  certainly  there/'  replied  Dick,  "if  he  wasn't 
killed  in  the  battle,  which  I  feel  couldn't  have  hap- 
pened to  a  fellow  like  Harry.  We're  from  the  same 
little  town  in  Kentucky,  Pendleton.  He's  descended 
straight  from  one  of  the  greatest  Indian  fighters, 
borderers  and  heroes  the  country  down  there  ever 
knew,  Henry  Ware,  who  afterwards  became  one  of 
the  early  governors  of  the  State.  And  I'm  descended 
from  Henry  Ware's  famous  friend,  Paul  Cotter,  who, 
in  his  time,  was  the  greatest  scholar  in  all  the  West. 
Henry  Ware  and  Paul  Cotter  were  like  the  old  Greek 
friends,  Damon  and  Pythias.  Harry  and  I  are  proud 
to  have  their  blood  in  our  veins.  Besides  being  cou- 
sins, there  are  other  things  to  make  Harry  and  me 
think  a  lot  of  each  other.  Oh,  he's  a  grand  fellow, 
even  if  he  is  on  the  wrong  side!" 

Dick's  eyes  sparkled  with  enthusiasm  as  he  spoke 
of  the  cousin  and  comrade  of  his  childhood. 

"The  chances  of  war  bring  about  strange  situations, 
or  at  least  I  have  heard  so,"  said  Warner.  "Now, 
Dick,  if  you  were  to  meet  your  cousin  face  to  face  on 
the  battlefield  with  a  loaded  gun  in  your  hand  what 
would  you  do?" 

"I'd  raise  that  gun,  take  deliberate  aim  at  a  square 
foot  of  air  about  thirty  feet  over  his  head  and  pull 
the  trigger." 

"But  your  duty  to  your  country  tells  you  to  do 
otherwise.  Before  you  is  a  foe  trying  to  destroy  the 

25 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Union.  You  have  come  out  armed  to  save  that  Union, 
consequently  you  must  fire  straight  at  him  and  not  at 
the  air,  in  order  to  reduce  the  number  of  our  enemies." 

"One  enemy  where  there  are  so  many  would  not 
count  for  anything  in  the  total.  Your  arithmetic  will 
show  you  that  Harry's  percentage  in  the  Southern 
army  is  so  small  that  it  reaches  the  vanishing  point. 
If  I  can  borrow  from  you,  George,  x  equals  Harry's 
percentage,  which  is  nothing,  3;  equals  the  value  of 
my  hypothetical  opportunity,  which  is  nothing,  then  x 
plus  y  equals  nothing,  which  represents  the  whole 
affair,  which  is  nothing,  that  is,  worth  nothing  to  the 
Union.  Hence  I  have  no  more  obligation  to  shoot 
Harry  if  I  meet  him  than  he  has  to  shoot  me." 

"Well  spoken,  Dick,"  said  Sergeant  Whitley. 
"Some  people,  I  reckon,  can  take  duty  too  hard.  If 
you  have  one  duty  an'  another  an'  bigger  one  comes 
along  right  to  the  same  place  you  ought  to  'tend  to 
the  bigger  one.  I'd  never  shoot  anybody  that  was  a 
heap  to  me  just  because  he  was  one  of  three  or  four 
hundred  thousand  who  was  on  the  other  side.  I've 
never  thought  much  of  that  old  Roman  father — I 
forget  his  name — who  had  his  son  executed  just  be- 
cause he  wasn't  doin'  exactly  right.  There  was  never 
a  rule  that  oughtn't  to  have  exceptions  under  extra- 
ordinary circumstances." 

"If  you  can  establish  the  principle  of  exceptions," 
replied  the  young  Vermonter  very  gravely,  "I  will 
allow  Dick  to  shoot  in  the  air  when  he  meets  his  cou- 
sin in  the  height  of  battle,  but  it  is  a  difficult  task  to 
establish  it,  and  if  it  fails  Dick,  according  to  all  rules 

26 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

of  logic  and  duty,  must  shoot  straight  at  his  cousin's 
heart." 

The  other  two  looked  at  Warner  and  saw  his  left 
eyelid  droop  slightly.  A  faint  twinkle  appeared  in 
either  eye  and  then  they  laughed. 

"I  reckon  that  Dick  shoots  high  in  the  air,"  said  the 
sergeant. 

Dick,  after  a  pleasant  hour  with  his  friends,  went 
back  to  Colonel  Newcomb's  quarters,  where  he  spent 
the  entire  evening  writing  despatches  at  dictation.  He 
was  hopeful  that  all  this  writing  portended  something, 
but  more  days  passed,  and  despite  the  impatience  of 
both  army  and  public,  there  was  no  movement.  Stories 
of  confused  and  uncertain  fighting  still  came  out  of 
the  west,  but  between  Washington  and  Bull  Run 
there  was  perfect  peace. 

The  summer  passed.  Autumn  came  and  deepened. 
The  air  was  crisp  and  sparkling.  The  leaves,  turned 
into  glowing  reds  and  yellows  and  browns,  began  to 
fall  from  the  trees.  The  advancing  autumn  contained 
the  promise  of  winter  soon  to  come.  The  leaves  fell 
faster  and  sharp  winds  blew,  bringing  with  them  chill 
rains.  Little  Mac,  or  the  Young  Napoleon,  as  many 
of  his  friends  loved  to  call  him,  continued  his  prep- 
arations, and  despite  all  the  urgings  of  President  and 
Congress,  would  not  move.  His  fatal  defect  now 
showed  in  all  its  destructiveness.  To  him  the  enemy 
always  appeared  threefold  his  natural  size. 

Reliable  scouts  brought  back  the  news  that  the 
Southern  troops  at  Manassas,  a  full  two  months  after 
their  victory  there,  numbered  only  forty  thousand. 

27 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

The  Northern  commander  issued  statements  that  the 
enemy  was  before  him  with  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  soldiers.  He  demanded  that  his  own  forces 
should  be  raised  to  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  million  men 
and  nearly  five  hundred  cannon  before  he  could  move. 

The  veteran,  Scott,  full  of  triumphs  and  honors,  but 
feeling  himself  out  of  place  in  his  old  age,  went  into 
retirement.  McClellan,  now  in  sole  command,  still 
lingered  and  delayed,  while  the  South,  making  good 
use  of  precious  months,  gathered  all  her  forces  to 
meet  him  or  whomsoever  came  against  her. 

Youth  chafed  most  against  the  long  waiting.  It 
seemed  to  Dick  and  his  mathematical  Vermont  friend 
that  time  was  fairly  wasting  away  under  their  feet, 
and  the  wise  sergeant  agreed  with  them. 

The  weather  had  grown  so  cold  now  that  they  built 
fires  for  warmth  as  well  as  cooking,  and  the  two 
youths  sat  with  Sergeant  Whitley  one  cold  evening  in 
late  October  before  a  big  blaze.  Both  were  tanned 
deeply  by  wind,  sun  and  rain,  and  they  had  grown 
uncommonly  hardy,  but  the  wind  that  night  came  out 
of  the  northwest,  and  it  had  such  a  sharp  edge  to  it 
that  they  were  glad  to  draw  their  blankets  over  their 
backs  and  shoulders. 

Dick  was  re-reading  a  letter  from  his  mother,  a 
widow  who  lived  on  the  outskirts  of  Pendleton.  It 
had  come  that  morning,  and  it  was  the  only  one  that 
had  reached  him  since  his  departure  from  Kentucky. 
But  she  had  received  another  that  he  had  written  to 
her  directly  after  the  Battle  of  Bull  Run. 

She  wrote  of  her  gratitude  because  Providence  had 

28 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

watched  over  him  in  that  dreadful  conflict,  all  the 
more  dreadful  because  it  was  friend  against  friend, 
brother  against  brother.  The  state,  she  said,  was  all 
in  confusion.  Everybody  suspected  everybody  else. 
The  Southerners  were  full  of  victory,  the  Northerners 
were  hopeful  of  victory  yet  to  come.  Colonel  Ken- 
ton  was  with  the  Southern  force  under  General  Buck- 
ner,  gathered  at  Bowling  Green  in  that  state,  but 
his  son,  her  nephew  Harry,  was  still  in  the  east  with 
Beauregard.  She  had  heard  that  the  troops  of  the 
west  and  northwest  were  coming  down  the  Ohio  and 
Mississippi  in  great  numbers,  and  people  expected  hard 
fighting  to  occur  very  soon  in  western  and  southern 
Kentucky.  It  was  all  very  dreadful,  and  a  madness 
seemed  to  have  come  over  the  land,  but  she  hoped 
that  Providence  would  continue  to  watch  over  her  dear 
son. 

Warner  and  the  sergeant  knew  that  the  letter  was 
from  Dick's  mother,  but  they  had  too  much  delicacy  to 
ask  him  questions.  The  boy  folded  the  sheets  care- 
fully and  returned  them  to  their  place  in  the  inside 
pocket  of  his  coat.  Then  he  looked  for  a  while 
thoughtfully  into  the  blaze  and  the  great  bed  of  coals 
that  had  formed  beneath.  As  far  as  one  could  see 
to  right  and  left  like  fires  burned,  but  the  night  re- 
mained dark  with  promise  of  rain,  and  the  chill  wind 
out  of  the  northwest  increased  in  vigor.  The  words 
just  read  for  the  fifth  time  had  sunk  deep  in  his  mind, 
and  he  was  feeling  the  call  of  the  west. 

"My  mother  writes,"  he  said  to  his  comrades,  "that 
the  Confederate  general,  Buckner,  whom  I  know,  is 

29 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

gathering  a  large  force  around  Bowling  Green  in  the 
southern  part  of  our  state,  and  that  fighting  is  sure 
to  occur  soon  between  that  town  and  the  Mississippi. 
An  officer  named  Grant  has  come  down  from  Illinois, 
and  he  is  said  to  be  pushing  the  Union  troops  for- 
ward with  a  lot  of  vigor.  Sergeant,  you  are  up  on 
army  affairs.  Do  you  know  this  man  Grant?" 

Sergeant  Whitley  shook  his  head. 

"Never  heard  of  him,"  he  replied.  "Like  as  not 
he's  one  of  the  officers  who  resigned  from  the  army 
after  the  Mexican  War.  There  was  so  little  to  do 
then,  and  so  little  chance  of  promotion,  that  a  lot 
of  them  quit  to  go  into  business.  I  suppose  they  '11 
all  be  coming  back  now." 

"I  want  to  go  out  there,"  said  Dick.  "It's  my  coun- 
try, and  the  westerners  at  least  are  acting.  But  look 
at  our  army  here!  Bull  Run  was  fought  the  mid- 
dle of  summer.  Now  it's  nearly  winter,  and  nothing 
has  been  done.  We  don't  get  out  of  sight  of  Wash- 
ington. If  I  can  get  myself  sent  west  I'm  going." 

"And  I'm  going  with  you,"  said  Warner. 

"Me,  too,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"I  know  that  Colonel  Newcomb's  eyes  are  turning 
in  that  direction,"  continued  Dick.  "He's  a  war- 
horse,  he  is,  and  he'd  like  to  get  into  the  thick  of  it." 

"You're  his  favorite  aide,"  said  the  calculating 
young  Vermonter.  "Can't  you  sow  those  western 
seeds  in  his  mind  and  keep  on  sowing  them  ?  The  fact 
that  you  are  from  this  western  battle  ground  will  give 
more  weight  to  what  you  say.  You  do  this,  and  I'll 
•wager  that  within  a  week  the  Colonel  will  induce  the 

30 


THE    MOUNTAIN   LIGHTS 

President  to  send  the  whole  regiment  to  the  Missis- 
sippi." 

"Can  you  reduce  your  prediction  to  a  mathematical 
certainty?"  asked  Dick,  a  twinkle  appearing  in  his 
eye. 

"No,  I  can't  do  that,"  replied  Warner,  with  an  an- 
swering twinkle,  "but  you're  the  very  fellow  to  influ- 
ence Colonel  Newcomb's  mind.  I'm  a  mathematician 
and  I  work  with  facts,  but  you  have  the  glowing 
imagination  that  conduces  to  the  creation  of  facts." 

"Big  words!  Grand  words!"  said  the  sergeant. 

"Never  let  Colonel  Newcomb  forget  the  west," 
continued  Warner,  not  noticing  the  interruption. 
"Keep  it  before  him  all  the  time.  Hint  that  there  can 
be  no  success  along  the  Mississippi  without  him  and 
his  regiment." 

"I'll  do  what  I  can,"  promised  Dick  faithfully,  and 
he  did  much.  Colonel  Newcomb  had  already  formed  a 
strong  attachment  for  this  zealous  and  valuable  young 
aide,  and  he  did  not  forget  the  words  that  Dick  said 
on  every  convenient  occasion  about  the  west.  He 
made  urgent  representations  that  he  and  his  regiment 
be  sent  to  the  relief  of  the  struggling  Northern  forces 
there,  and  he  contrived  also  that  these  petitions  should 
reach  the  President.  One  day  the  order  came  to  go, 
but  not  to  St.  Louis',  where  Halleck,  now  in  command, 
was.  Instead  they  were  to  enter  the  mountains  of 
West  Virginia  and  Kentucky,  and  help  the  mountain- 
eers who  were  loyal  to  the  Union.  If  they  accom- 
plished that  task  with  success,  they  were  to  proceed 
to  the  greater  theatre  in  Western  Kentucky  and  Ten- 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

nessee.  It  was  not  all  they  wished,  but  they  thought 
it  far  better  than  remaining  at  Washington,  where  it 
seemed  that  the  army  would  remain  indefinitely. 

Colonel  Newcomb,  who  was  sitting  in  his  tent  bend- 
ing over  maps  with  his  staff,  summoned  Dick. 

"You  are  a  Kentuckian,  my  lad,"  he  said,  "and  I 
thought  you  might  know  something  about  this  region 
into  which  we  are  going." 

"Not  much,  sir,"  replied  Dick.  "My  home  is  much 
further  west  in  a  country  very  different  both  in  its  own 
character  and  that  of  its  people.  But  I  have  been  in 
the  mountains  two  or  three  times,  and  I  may  be  of 
some  help  as  a  guide." 

"I  am  sure  you  will  do  your  best,"  said  Colonel 
Newcomb.  "  By  the  way,  that  young  Vermont  friend 
of  yours,  Warner,  is  to  be  on  my  staff  also,  and  it  is 
very  likely  that  you  and  he  will  go  on  many  errands 
together. " 

"Can't  we  take  Sergeant  Whitley  with  us  some- 
times?" asked  Dick  boldly. 

"So  you  can,"  replied  the  colonel,  laughing  a  little1. 
"I've  noticed  that  man,  and  I've  a  faint  suspicion  that 
he  knows  more  about  war  than  any  of  us  civilian 
officers." 

"It's  our  task  to  learn  as  much  as  we  can  from 
these  old  regulars,"  said  a  Major  Hertford,  a  man  of 
much  intelligence  and  good  humor,  who,  previous  to 
the  war,  had  been  a  lawyer  in  a  small  town.  Alan 
Hertford  was  about  twenty-five  and  of  fine,  manner 
and  appearance. 

"Well  spoken,  Major  Hertford,"  said  the  thought- 

32 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

ful  miner,  Colonel  Newcomb.  "Now,  Dick,  you  can 
go,  and  remember  that  we  are  to  start  for  Washing- 
ton early  in  the  morning  and  take  a  train  there  for 
the  north.  It  will  be  the  duty  of  Lieutenant  Warner 
and  yourself,  as  well  as  others,  to  see  that  our  men  are 
ready  to  the  last  shoe  for  the  journey." 

Dick  and  Warner  were  so  much  elated  that  they 
worked  all  that  night,  and  they  did  not  hesitate  to  go 
to  Sergeant  Whitley  for  advice  or  instruction.  At  the 
first  spear  of  dawn  the  regiment  marched  away  in 
splendid  order  from  Arlington  to  Washington,  where 
the  train  that  was  to  bear  them  to  new  fields  and  un- 
known fortunes  was  ready. 

It  was  a  long  train  of  many  coaches,  as  the  regi- 
ment numbered  seven  hundred  men,  and  it  also  car- 
ried with  it  four  guns,  mounted  on  trucks.  The 
coaches  were  all  of  primitive  pattern.  The  soldiers 
were  to  sleep  on  the  seats,  and  their  arms  and  sup- 
plies were  heaped  in  the  aisles.  It  was  a  cold,  driz- 
zling day  of  closing  autumn,  and  the  capital  looked 
sodden  and  gloomy.  Cameron,  the  Secretary  of  War, 
came  to  see  them  off  and  to  make  the  customary  pre- 
diction concerning  their  valor  and  victory  to  come. 
But  he  was  a  cold  man,  and  he  was  repellent  to  Dick, 
used  to  more  warmth  of  temperament. 

Then,  with  a  ringing  of  bells,  a  heave  of  the  en- 
gine, a  great  puffing  of  smoke,  and  a  mighty  rattling 
of  wheels,  the  train  drew  out  of  Washington  and 
made  its  noisy  way  toward  Baltimore.  Dick  and 
Warner  were  on  the  same  seat.  It  was  only  forty 
miles  to  Baltimore,  but  their  slow  train  would  be  per- 

33 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

haps  three  hours  in  arriving.  So  they  had  ample 
opportunity  to  see  the  country,  which  they  examined 
with  the  curious  eyes  of  youth.  But  there  was 
little  to  see.  The  last  leaves  were  falling  from 
the  trees  under  the  early  winter  rain.  Bare  boughs 
and  brown  grass  went  past  their  windows  and  the 
fields  were  deserted.  The  landscape  looked  chill  and 
sullen. 

Warner  was  less  depressed  than  Dick.  He  had  an 
even  temperament  based  solidly  upon  mathematical  cal- 
culations. He  knew  that  while  it  might  be  raining 
today,  the  chances  were  several  to  one  against  its 
raining  tomorrow. 

"I've  good  cause  to  remember  Baltimore,"  he  said. 
"I  was  with  the  New  England  troops  when  they  had 
the  fight  there  on  the  way  down  to  the  capital.  Al- 
though we  hold  it,  it's  really  a  Southern  city,  Dick. 
Most  all  the  border  cities  are  Southern  in  sympathy, 
and  they're  swarming  with  people  who  will  send  to  the 
Southern  leaders  news  of  every  movement  we  make. 
I  state,  and  moreover  I  assert  it  in  the  face  of  all 
the  world,  that  the  knowledge  of  our  departure  from 
Washington  is  already  in  Southern  hands.  By  close 
mathematical  calculation  the  chances  are  at  least 
ninety-five  per  cent  in  favor  of  my  statement." 

"Very  likely,"  said  Dick,  "and  we'll  have  that  sort 
of  thing  to  face  all  the  time  when  we  invade  the  South. 
We've  got  to  win  this  war,  George,  by  hard  fighting, 
and  then  more  hard  fighting,  and  then  more  and  more 
of  the  same." 

"Guess  you're  right.      Arithmetic   shows  at  least 

34 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

one  hundred  per  cent  of  probability  in  favor  of  your 
suggestion." 

Dick  looked  up  and  down  the  long  coach  packed 
with  young  troops.  Besides  the  commissioned  officers 
and  the  sergeants,  there  was  not  one  in  the  coach  who 
was  twenty-five.  Most  of  them  were  nineteen  or 
twenty,  and  it  was  the  same  in  the  other  coaches. 
After  the  first  depression  their  spirits  rose.  The  tem- 
per of  youth  showed  strongly.  They  were  eager  to 
see  Baltimore,  but  the  train  stopped  there  only  a  few 
minutes,  and  they  were  not  allowed  to  leave  the 
coaches. 

Then  the  train  turned  towards  the  west.  The  driz- 
zle of  rain  had  now  become  a  pour,  and  it  drove  so 
heavily  that  they  could  see  but  little  outside.  Food 
was  served  at  noon  and  afterward  many  slept  in  the 
cramped  seats.  Dick,  despite  his  stiff  position,  fell 
asleep  too.  By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  every- 
body in  their  coach  was  slumbering  soundly  except 
Sergeant  Whitley,  who  sat  by  the  door  leading  to  the 
next  car. 

All  that  afternoon  and  into  the  night  the  train  rat- 
tled and  moved  into  the  west.  The  beautiful  rolling 
country  was  left  behind,  and  they  were  now  among 
the  mountains,  whirling  around  precipices  so  sharply 
that  often  the  sleeping  boys  were  thrown  from  the 
seats  of  the  coaches.  But  they  were  growing  used  to 
hardships.  They  merely  climbed  back  again  upon  the 
seats,  and  were  asleep  once  more  in  half  a  minute. 

The  rain  still  fell  and  the  wind  blew  fiercely  among 
the  somber  mountains.  A  second  engine  had  been 

35 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

added  to  the  train,  and  the  speed  of  the  train  was 
darkened.  The  engineer  in  front  stared  at  the  slip- 
pay  rails,  bat  he  could  see  only  a  few  yards.  The 
pitchy  darkness  closed  in  ahead,  hiding  everything, 
even  the  peaks  and  ridges.  The  heart  of  that  engi- 
neer, and  he  was  a  brave  man,  as  brave  as  any  soldier 
on  the  battlefield,  had  sunk  very  low.  Railroads  were 
little  past  their  infancy  then  and  this  was  the  first  to 
cross  the  mountains.  He  was  by  no  means  certain 
of  his  track,  and,  moreover,  the  rocks  and  forest  might 
shelter  an  ambush. 

The  Alleghanies  and  their  outlying  ridges  and  spurs 
are  not  lofty  mountains,  but  to  this  day  they  are  wild 
and  almost  inaccessible  in  many  places.  Nature  has 
made  them  a  formidable  barrier,  and  in  the  great  Civil 
War  those  who  trod  mere  had  to  look  with  all  their 
eyes  and  listen  with  all  their  ears.  The  engineer  was 
not  alone  in  his  anxiety  this  night  Colonel  Newcomb 
rose  from  an  uneasy  doze  and  he  went  with  Major 
Hertford  into  the  engineer's  cab.  They  were  now  go- 
ing at  the  rate  of  not  more  than  five  or  six  miles  an 
hour,  the  long  train  winding  like  a  snake  around  the 
edges  of  precipices  and  feeling  its  way  gingerly  over 
the  trestles  that  spanned  the  deep  valleys.  All  trains 
made  a  great  roar  and  rattle  then,  and  the  long  ra- 
vines  gave  it  back  in  a  rumbling  and  menacing  echo. 
Gusts  of  rain  were  swept  now  and  then  into  the  faces 
of  the  engineer,  the  firemen  and  the  officers. 

"Do  you  see  anything  ahead,  Canby?"  said  Colonel 
Newcomb  to  the  engineer. 

:  thing.     That's  the  trouble,  sir.     If  it  were  a 
36 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

clear  night  I  shouldn't  be  worried.  Then  we  wouldn't 
be  likely  to  steam  into  danger  with  our  eyes  shut. 
This  is  a  wild  country.  The  mountaineers  in  the  main 
are  for  us,  but  we  are  not  far  north  of  the  Southern 
line,  and  if  they  know  we  are  crossing  they  may  un- 
dertake to  raid  in  here." 

"And  they  may  know  it,"  said  the  colonel.  "Wash- 
ington is  full  of  Southern  sympathizers.  Stop  the 
train,  Canby,  when  wre  come  to  the  first  open  and  level 
space,  and  we'll  do  some  scouting  ahead." 

The  engineer  felt  great  relief.  He  was  devoutly 
glad  that  the  colonel  was  going  to  take  such  a  pre- 
caution. At  that  moment  he,  more  than  Colonel 
Xewcomb,  was  responsible  for  the  lives  of  the  seven 
hundred  human  beings  aboard  the  train,  and  his  patri- 
otism and  sense  of  responsibility  were  both  strong. 

The  train,  with  much  jolting  and  clanging,  stopped 
fifteen  minutes  later.  Both  Dick  and  Warner,  awak- 
ened by  the  shock,  sat  up  and  rubbed  their  eyes.  Then 
they  left  the  train  at  once  to  join  Colonel  Newcomb, 
who  might  want  them  immediately.  Wary  Sergeant 
Whitley  followed  them  in  silence. 

The  boys  found  Colonel  Xewcomb  and  the  remain- 
ing members  of  his  staff  standing  near,  and  seeking 
anxiously  to  discover  the  nature  of  the  country  about 
them.  The  colonel  nodded  when  they  arrived,  and 
gave  them  an  approving  glance.  The  two  stood  by, 
awaiting  the  colonel's  orders,  but  they  did  not  neglect 
to  use  their  eyes. 

Dick  saw  by  the  engineer's  lantern  that  they  were 
in  a  valley,  and  he  learned  from  his  words  that  this 

37 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

valley  was  about  three  miles  long  with  a  width  of  per- 
haps half  a  mile.  A  little  mountain  river  rushed  down 
its  center,  and  the  train  would  cross  the  stream  about 
a  mile  further  on.  It  was  still  raining  and  the  cold 
wind  whistled  down  from  the  mountains.  Dick  could 
see  the  somber  ridges  showing  dimly  through  the  loom 
of  darkness  and  rain.  He  was  instantly  aware,  too,  of 
a  tense  and  uneasy  feeling  among  the  officers.  All  of 
them  carried  glasses,  but  in  the  darkness  they  could 
not  use  them.  Lights  began  to  appear  in  the  train 
and  many  heads  were  thrust  out  at  the  windows. 

"Go  through  the  coaches,  Mr.  Mason  and  Mr. 
Warner,"  said  Colonel  Newcomb,  "and  have  every 
light  put  out  immediately.  Tell  them,  too,  that  my  or- 
ders are  for  absolute  silence." 

Dick  and  the  Vermonter  did  their  work  rapidly,  re- 
ceiving many  curious  inquiries,  as  they  went  from 
coach  to  coach,  all  of  which  they  were  honestly  unable 
to  answer.  They  knew  no  more  than  the  other  boys 
about  the  situation.  But  when  they  left  the  last  coach 
and  returned  to  the  officers  near  the  engine,  the  train 
was  in  total  darkness,  and  no  sound  came  from  it. 
Colonel  Newcomb  again  gave  them  an  approving  nod. 
Dick  noticed  that  the  fires  in  the  engine  were  now  well 
covered,  and  that  no  sparks  came  from  the  smoke- 
stack. Standing  by  it  he  could  see  the  long  shape  of 
the  train  running  back  in  the  darkness,  but  it  would 
have  been  invisible  to  any  one  a  hundred  yards  away. 

"You  think  we're  thoroughly  hidden  now,  Canby?" 
said  the  colonel. 

"Yes,  sir.  Unless  they've  located  us  precisely  on 

38 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

advance  information.  I  don't  see  how  they  could  find 
us  among  the  mountains  in  all  this  darkness  and  rain. " 

"But  they've  had  the  advance  information!  Look 
there!"  exclaimed  Major  Hertford,  pointing  toward 
the  high  ridge  that  lay  on  their  right. 

A  beam  of  light  had  appeared  on  the  loftiest  spur, 
standing  out  at  first  like  a  red  star  in  the  darkness, 
then  growing  intensely  brighter,  and  burning  with  a 
steady,  vivid  light.  The  effect  was  weird  and  power* 
ful.  The  mountain  beneath  it  was  invisible,  and  it 
seemed  to  burn  there  like  a  real  eye,  wrathful  and 
menacing.  The  older  men,  as  well  as  the  boys,  were 
held  as  if  by  a  spell.  It  was  something  monstrous  and 
eastern,  like  the  appearance  of  a  genie  out  of  the 
Arabian  Nights. 

The  light,  after  remaining  fixed  for  at  least  a  min- 
ute, began  to  move  slowly  from  side  to  side  and  then 
faster. 

"A  signal!"  exclaimed  Colonel  Newcomb.  "Be- 
yond a  doubt  it  is  the  Southerners.  Whatever  they're 
saying  they're  saying  it  to  somebody.  Look  toward 
the  south!" 

"Ah,  there  they  are  answering!"  exclaimed  Major 
Hertford. 

All  had  wheeled  simultaneously,  and  on  another 
high  spur  a  mile  to  the  south  a  second  red  light  as 
vivid  and  intense  as  the  first  was  flashing  back  and 
forth.  It,  too,  the  mountain  below  invisible,  seemed 
to  swing  in  the  heavens.  Dick,  standing  there  in  the 
darkness  and  rain,  and  knowing  that  imminent  and 
mortal  danger  was  on  either  side,  felt  a  frightful 

39 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

chill  creeping  slowly  down  his  spine.  It  is  a  terrible 
thing  to  feel  through  some  superior  sense  that  an  in- 
visible foe  is  approaching,  and  not  be  able  to  know 
by  any  kind  of  striving  whence  he  came. 

The  lights  flashed  alternately,  and  presently  both 
dropped  from  the  sky,  seeming  to  Dick  to  leave  blacker 
spots  on  the  darkness  in  their  place.  Then  only  the 
heavy  night  and  the  rain  encompassed  them. 

"What  do  you  think  it  is?"  asked  Colonel  Newcomb 
of  Major  Hertford. 

"Southern  troops  beyond  a  doubt.  It  is  equally 
certain  that  they  were  warned  in  some  manner  from 
Washington  of  our  departure." 

"I  think  so,  too.  It  is  probable  that  they  saw  the 
light  and  have  been  signalling  their  knowledge  to 
each  other.  It  seems  likely  to  me  that  they  will  wait 
at  the  far  end  of  the  valley  to  cut  us  off.  What  force 
do  you  think  it  is?" 

"Perhaps  a  cavalry  detachment  that  has  ridden  hur- 
riedly to  intercept  us.  I  would  say  at  a  guess  that  it 
is  Turner  Ashby  and  his  men.  A  skillful  and  danger- 
ous foe,  as  you  know," 

Already  the  fame  of  this  daring  Confederate  horse- 
man was  spreading  over  Virginia  and  Maryland. 

"If  we  are  right  in  our  guess,"  said  Major  Hert- 
ford, "they  will  dismount,  lead  their  horses  along  the 
mountain  side,  and  shut  down  the  trap  upon  us.  Doubt- 
less they  are  in  superior  force,  and  know  the  country 
much  better  than  we  do.  If  they  get  ahead  of  us  and 
have  a  little  time  to  do  it  in  they  will  certainly  tear  up 
the  tracks." 

40 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

"I  think  you  are  right  in  all  respects,"  said  Colonel 
Newcomb.  "But  it  is  obvious  that  we  must  not  give 
them  time  to  destroy  the  road  ahead  of  us.  As  for 
the  rest,  I  wonder." 

He  pulled  uneasily  at  his  short  beard,  and  then  he 
caught  sight  of  Sergeant  Whitley  standing  silently, 
arms  folded,  by  the  side  of  the  engine.  Newcomb,  the 
miner  colonel,  was  a  man  of  big  and  open  mind.  A 
successful  business  man,  he  had  the  qualities  which 
made  him  a  good  general  by  the  time  the  war  was 
in  its  third  year.  He  knew  Whitley  and  he  knew,  too, 
that  he  was  an  old  army  regular,  bristling  with  ex- 
perience and  shrewdness. 

"Sergeant  Whitley,"  he  said,  "in  this  emergency 
what  would  you  do,  if  you  were  in  my  place?" 

The  sergeant  saluted  respectfully. 

"If  I  were  in  your  place,  sir,  which  I  never  will  be," 
he  replied,  "I  would  have  all  the  troops  leave  the  train. 
Then  I  would  have  the  engineers  take  the  train  for- 
ward slowly,  while  the  troops  marched  on  either  side 
of  it,  but  at  a  sufficient  distance  to  be  hidden  in  the 
darkness.  Then,  sir,  our  men  could  not  be  caught  in 
a  wreck,  but  with  their  feet  on  solid  earth  they  would 
be  ready,  if  need  be,  for  a  fight,  which  is  our  busi- 
ness." 

"Well  spoken,  Sergeant  Whitley,"  said  Colonel 
Newcomb,  while  the  other  officers  also  nodded  ap- 
proval. "Your  plan  is  excellent  and  we  will  adopt 
it.  Get  the  troops  out  of  the  train  quickly  but 
in  silence  and  do  you,  Canby,  be  ready  with  the: 
engine. " 

41 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Dick  and  Warner  with  the  older  officers  turned  to 
the  task.  The  young  soldiers  were  out  of  the  train 
in  two  minutes  and  were  forming  in  lines  on  either 
side,  arms  read£  There  were  many  whisperings 
among  these  boys,  but  none  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
twenty  yards  away.  All  felt  intense  relief  when  they 
left  the  train  and  stood  upon  the  solid,  though  de- 
cidedly damp  earth. 

But  the  cold  rain  sweeping  upon  their  faces  was  a 
tonic,  both  mental  and  physical,  after  the  close  heat 
of  the  train.  They  did  not  know  why  they  had  dis- 
embarked, but  they  surmised  with  good  reason  that 
an  attack  was  threatened  and  they  were  eager  to 
meet  it. 

Dick  and  Warner  were  near  the  head  of  the  line 
on  the  right  of  the  tracks,  and  Sergeant  Whitley  was 
with  them.  The  train  began  to  puff  heavily,  and  in 
spite  of  every  precaution  some  sparks  flew  from  the 
smoke-stack.  Dick  knew  that  it  was  bound  to  rumble 
and  rattle  when  it  started,  but  he  was  surprised  at  the 
enormous  amount  of  noise  it  made,  when  the  wheels 
really  began  to  turn.  It  seemed  to  him  that  in  the 
silence  of  the  night  it  could  be  heard  three  or  four 
miles.  Then  he  realized  that  it  was  merely  his  own 
excitement  and  extreme  tension  of  both  mind  and 
body.  Canby  was  taking  the  train  forward  so  gently 
that  its  sounds  were  drowned  two  hundred  yards 
away  in  the  swirl  of  wind  and  rain. 

The  men  marched,  each  line  keeping  abreast  of  the 
train,  but  fifty  yards  or  more  to  one  side.  The  young 
troops  were  forbidden  to  speak  and  their  footsteps 

42 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

made  no  noise  in  the  wet  grass  and  low  bushes.  Dick 
and  Warner  kept  their  eyes  on  the  mountains,  turning 
them  alternately  from  north  to  south.  Nothing  ap- 
peared on  either  ridge,  and  no  sound  came  to  tell  of 
an  enemy  near. 

Dick  began  to  believe  that  they  would  pass  through 
the  valley  and  out  of  the  trap  without  a  combat.  But 
while  a  train  may  go  two  or  three  miles  in  a  few 
minutes  it  takes  troops  marching  in  the  darkness  over 
uncertain  ground  a  long  time  to  cover  the  same  dis- 
tance. They  marched  a  full  half  hour  and  then  Dick 
suppressed  a  cry.  The  light,  burning  as  intensely  red 
as  before,  appeared  again  on  the  mountain  to  the 
right,  but  further  toward  the  west,  seeming  to  have 
moved  parallel  to  the  Northern  troops.  As  Dick 
looked  it  began  to  flash  swiftly  from  side  to  side  and 
that  chill  and  weird  feeling  again  ran  down  his  spine. 
He  looked  toward  the  south  and  there  was  the  second 
signal,  red  and  intense,  replying  to  the  first. 

Dick  heard  a  deep  "Ah!"  run  along  the  line  of 
young  troops,  and  he  knew  now  that  they  understood 
as  much  as  he  or  any  of  the  officers  did.  He  now 
knew,  too,  that  they  would  not  pass  out  of  the  valley 
without  a  combat.  The  Southern  forces,  beyond  a 
doubt,  would  try  to  shut  them  in  at  the  western  mouth 
of  the  valley,  and  a  battle  in  the  night  and  rain  was 
sure  to  follow. 

The  train  continued  to  move  slowly  forward.  Had 
Colonel  Newcomb  dared  he  would  have  ordered  Canby 
to  increase  his  speed  in  order  that  he  might  reach  the 
western  mouth  of  the  valley  before  the  Southern  force 

43 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

had  a  chance  to  tear  up  the  rails,  but  there  was  no 
use  for  the  train  without  the  troops  and  they  were 
already  marching  as  fast  as  they  could. 

The  gorge  was  now  not  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  away.  Dick  was  able  to  discern  it,  because  the 
darkness  there  was  not  quite  so  dark  as  that  which 
lay  against  the  mountains  on  either  side.  He  was 
hopeful  that  they  might  yet  reach  it  before  the  South- 
ern force  could  close  down  upon  them,  but  before  they 
went  many  yards  further  he  heard  the  beat  of  horses' 
feet  both  to  right  and  left  and  knew  that  the  enemy 
was  at  hand. 

"Take  the  train  on  through  the  pass,  Canby!" 
shouted  Colonel  Newcomb.  "We'll  cover  its  retreat, 
and  join  you  later — if  we  can." 

The  train  began  to  rattle  and  roar,  and  its  speed 
increased.  Showers  of  sparks  shot  from  the  funnels 
of  the  two  engines,  and  gleamed  for  an  instant  in  the 
darkness.  The  beat  of  horses'  feet  grew  to  thunder. 
Colonel  Newcomb  with  great  presence  of  mind  drew 
the  two  parallel  lines  of  his  men  close  together,  and 
ordered  them  to  lie  down  on  either  side  of  the  rail- 
road track  and  face  outward  with  cocked  rifles.  Dick, 
the  Vermonter,  and  Sergeant  Whitley  lay  close  to- 
gether, and  the  three  faced  the  north. 

"See  the  torches !"  said  Whitley. 

Dick  saw  eight  or  ten  torches  wavering  and  flick- 
ering at  a  height  of  seven  or  eight  feet  above  the 
ground,  and  he  knew  that  they  were  carried  by  horse- 
men, but  he  could  not  see  either  men  or  horses  be- 
neath. Then  the  rapid  beat  of  hoofs  ceased  abruptly 

44 


THE    MOUNTAIN    LIGHTS 

at  a  distance  that  Dick  thought  must  be  about  two 
hundred  yards. 

"Lie    flat!"    cried    Whitley.      "They're    about    to 
fire!" 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  TELEGRAPH  STATION 

THE  darkness  to  the  north  was  suddenly  split 
apart  by  a  solid  sheet  of  flame.  Dick  by  the 
light  saw  many  men  on  horseback  and  others 
on  foot,  bridle  rein  over  arm.  It  was  well  for  the 
seven  hundred  boys  that  they  had  pressed  themselves 
against  the  solid  earth.  A  sheet  of  bullets  swept  to- 
ward them.  Most  passed  over  their  heads,  but  many 
struck  upon  bones  and  flesh,  and  cries  of  pain  rose 
from  the  lines  of  men  lying  along  the  railroad  track. 

The  seven  hundred  pulled  trigger  and  fired  at  the 
flash.  They  fired  so  well  that  Dick  could  hear  South- 
ern horses  neighing  with  pain,  and  struggling  in  the 
darkness.  He  felt  sure  that  many  men,  too,  had  been 
hit.  At  least  no  charge  came.  The  seven  hundred 
shouted  with  exultation  and,  leaping  to  their  feet,  pre- 
pared to  fire  a  second  volley.  But  the  swift  command 
of  their  officers  quickly  put  them  down  again. 

"Don't  forget  the  other  Confederate  column  to  the 
south  of  us,"  whispered  Whitley.  "They  did  not  fire 
at  first  for  fear  their  bullets  would  pass  over  our 
heads  and  strike  their  own  comrades.  For  the  same 

46 


THE    TELEGRAPH    STATION 

reason  they  must  have  dropped  back  a  little  in  order 
to  avoid  the  fire  of  their  friends.  Their  volley  will 
come  from  an  angle  about  midway  between  our  left 
and  rear." 

Just  as  he  spoke  the  last  words  the  rifles  flashed  at 
the  surmised  angle  and  again  the  bullets  beat  among 
the  young  troops  or  swept  over  their  heads.  A  soldier 
was  killed  only  a  few  feet  from  Dick.  The  boy  picked 
up  his  rifle  and  ammunition  and  began  to  fire  when- 
ever he  saw  the  flash  of  an  opposing  weapon.  But 
the  fire  of  both  Confederate  columns  ceased  in  a  min- 
ute or  two,  and  not  a  shot  nor  the  sound  of  a  single 
order  came  out  of  the  darkness.  But  Dick  with  his 
ear  to  the  soft  earth,  could  hear  the  crush  of  hoofs 
in  the  mud,  and  with  a  peculiar  ability  to  discern 
whence  sound  came  he  knew  that  the  force  on  the  left 
and  rear  was  crossing  the  railroad  track  in  order  to 
join  their  comrades  on  the  north.  He  whispered  his 
knowledge  to  Whitley,  who  whispered  back: 

"It's  the  natural  thing  for  them  to  do.  They  could 
not  afford  to  fight  on  in  the  darkness  with  two  separ- 
ate forces.  The  two  columns  would  soon  be  firing 
into  each  other." 

Colonel  Newcomb  now  gave  an  order  for  the  men 
to  rise  and  follow  the  railroad  track,  but  also  to  fire 
at  the  flash  of  the  rifles  whenever  a  volley  was  poured 
upon  them.  He  must  not  only  beat  off  the  Southern 
attack,  but  also  continue  the  journey  to  those  points  in 
the  west  where  they  were  needed  so  sorely.  Some  of 
his  men  had  been  killed,  and  he  was  compelled  to 
leave  their  bodies  where  they  had  fallen.  Others  were 

47 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

wounded,   but  without  exception  they  were  helped 
along  by  their  comrades. 

Warner  also  had  secured  a  rifle,  with  which  he 
fired  occasionally,  but  he  and  Dick,  despite  the  dark- 
ness, kept  near  to  Colonel  Newcomb  in  order  that  they 
might  deliver  any  orders  that  he  should  choose  to 
give.  Sergeant  Whitley  was  close  to  them.  Dick 
presently  heard  the  rush  of  water. 

"What  is  that?"  he  exclaimed. 

"It's  the  little  river  that  runs  down  the  valley,"  re- 
plied Warner.  "There's  a  slope  here  and  it  comes 
like  a  torrent.  A  bridge  or  rather  trestle  is  only  a 
little  further,  and  we've  got  to  walk  the  ties,  if  we 
reach  the  other  side.  They'll  make  their  heaviest  rush 
there,  I  suppose,  as  beyond  a  doubt  they  are  thor- 
oughly acquainted  with  the  ground." 

The  Northern  troops  left  the  track  which  here  ran 
along  an  embankment  several  feet  high,  and  took: 
shelter  on  its  southern  side.  They  now  had  an  advan- 
tage for  a  while,  as  they  fired  from  a  breastwork  upon 
their  foes,  who  were  in  the  open.  But  the  darkness, 
lit  only  by  the  flashes  of  the  rifles,  kept  the  fire  of 
both  sides  from  being  very  destructive,  the  bullets 
being  sent  mainly  at  random. 

Dick  dimly  saw  the  trestle  work  ahead  of  them,  and 
the  roaring  of  the  little  river  increased.  He  did  not 
know  how  deep  the  water  was,  but  he  was  sure  that 
it  could  not  be  above  his  waist  as  it  was  a  small  stream. 
An  idea  occurred  to  him  and  he  promptly  communi- 
cated it  to  Colonel  Newcomb. 

"Suppose,  sir,"  he  said,  "that  we  ford  the  river  just 

48 


THE    TELEGRAPH    STATION 

below  the  trestle.  It  will  deceive  them  and  we'll  be 
half  way  across  before  they  suspect  the  change." 

"A  good  plan,  Mr.  Mason,"  said  Colonel  Newcomb. 
"We'll  try  it." 

Word  was  quickly  passed  along  the  line  that  they 
should  turn  to  the  left  as  they  approached  the  trestle* 
march  swiftly  down  the  slope,  and  dash  into  the 
stream.  As  fast  as  they  reached  the  other  side  of 
the  ford  the  men  should  form  upon  the  bank  there, 
and  with  their  rifles  cover  the  passage  of  their  com- 
rades. 

The  skeleton  work  of  the  trestle  now  rose  more 
clearly  into  view.  The  rain  had  almost  ceased  and 
faint  rays  of  moonlight  showed  through  the  rifts 
where  the  clouds  had  broken  apart.  The  boys  dis- 
tinctly heard  the  gurgling  rush  of  waters,  and  they 
also  saw  the  clear,  bluish  surface  of  the  mountain 
stream.  The  same  quickening  of  light  disclosed  the 
Southern  force  on  their  right  flank  and  rear,  only 
four  or  five  hundred  yards  away.  Dick's  hasty  glance 
backward  lingered  for  a  moment  on  a  powerful  man 
on  a  white  horse  just  in  advance  of  the  Southern 
column.  He  saw  this  man  raise  his  hand  and  then 
command  the  men  to  fire.  He  and  twenty  others 
under  the  impulse  of  excitement  shouted  to  the  regi- 
ment to  drop  down,  and  the  Northern  lads  did  so. 

Most  of  the  volley  passed  over  their  heads.  Rising 
they  sent  back  a  return  discharge,  and  then  the  head 
of  the  columns  rushed  into  the  stream.  Dick  felt 
swift  water  whirling  about  him  and  tugging  at  his 
body,  but  it  rose  no  higher  than  his  waist,  although 

49 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

foam  and  spray  were  dashed  into  his  face.  He  heard 
all  around  him  the  splashing  of  his  comrades,  and 
their  murmurs  of  satisfaction.  They  realized  now 
that  they  were  not  only  able  to  retreat  before  a  much 
superior  force,  but  this  same  stream,  when  crossed, 
would  form  a  barrier  behind  which  they  could  fight 
two  to  one. 

The  Confederate  leader,  whoever  he  might  be,  and 
Dick  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  the  redoubtable  Turner 
Ashby,  also  appreciated  the  full  facts  and  he  drove 
his  whole  force  straight  at  the  regiment.  It  was  well 
for  the  young  troops  that  part  of  them  were  already 
across,  and,  under  the  skillful  leadership  of  Colonel 
Newcomb,  Major  Hertford,  and  three  or  four  old, 
regular  army  sergeants,  of  whom  the  best  was  Whit- 
ley,  were  already  forming  in  line  of  battle. 

"Kneel,"  shouted  the  colonel,  "and  fire  over  the 
heads  of  your  comrades  at  the  enemy!" 

The  light  was  still  growing  brighter.  The  rain 
came  only  in  slight  flurries.  The  clouds  were  troop- 
ing off  toward  the  northeast,  and  the  moon  was  out 
Dick  clearly  saw  the  black  mass  of  the  Southern 
horsemen  wheeling  down  upon  them.  At  least  three 
hundred  of  the  regiment  were  now  upon  the  bank, 
and,  with  fairly  steady  aim,  they  poured  a  heavy 
volley  into  the  massed  ranks  of  their  foe.  Dick  saw 
horses  fall  while  others  dashed  away  riderless.  But 
the  Southern  line  wavered  only  for  a  moment  and 
then  came  on  again  with  many  shouts.  There  were 
also  dismounted  men  on  either  flank  who  knelt  and 
maintained  a  heavy  fire  upon  the  defenders. 

50 


THE    TELEGRAPH    STATION 

The  lads  in  blue  were  suffering  many  wounds,  but 
a  line  of  trees  and  underbrush  on  the  western  shore 
helped  them.  Lying  there  partly  protected  they 
loaded  and  pulled  trigger  as  fast  as  they  could,  while 
the  rest  of  their  comrades  emerged  dripping  from  the 
stream  to  join  them.  The  Confederates,  brave  as 
they  were,  had  no  choice  but  to  give  ground  against 
such  strong  defense,  and  the  miner  colonel,  despite 
his  reserve  and  his  middle  years,  gave  vent  to  his 
exultation. 

"We  can  hold  this  line  forever!"  he  exclaimed  to 
his  aides.  "It's  one  thing  to  charge  us  in  the  open, 
but  it's  quite  another  to  get  at  us  across  a  deep  and 
rushing  stream.  Major  Hertford,  take  part  of  the 
men  to  the  other  side  of  the  railroad  track  and  drive 
back  any  attempt  at  a  crossing  there.  Lieutenant 
Mason,  you  and  Lieutenant  Warner  go  ahead  and  see 
what  has  become  of  the  train.  You  can  get  back  here 
in  plenty  time  for  more  righting." 

Dick  and  Warner  hurried  forward,  following  the 
line  of  the  railroad.  Their  blood  was  up  and  they  did 
not  like  to  leave  the  defense  of  the  river,  but  orders 
must  be  obeyed.  As  they  ran  down  the  railroad  track 
a  man  came  forward  swinging  a  lantern,  and  they  saw 
the  tall  gaunt  figure  of  Canby,  the  chief  engineer. 
Behind  him  the  train  stretched  away  in  the 
darkness. 

"I  guess  that  our  men  have  forded  the  river  and  are 
holding  the  bank,"  said  Canby.  "Do  they  need  the 
train  crew  back  there  to  help?" 

He  spoke  with  husky  eagerness.     Dick  knew  that 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

he  was  longing  to  be  in  the  middle  of  the  fight,  but 
that  his  duty  kept  him  with  the  train. 

"No,"  he  replied.  "The  river  bank,  and  the  road 
along  its  shore  give  us  a  great  position  for  defense, 
and  I  know  we  can  hold  it.  Colonel  Newcomb  did 
not  say  so,  but  perhaps  you'd  better  bring  the  train 
back  nearer  us.  It's  not  our  object  to  stay  in  this 
valley  and  fight,  but  to  go  into  the  west.  Is  all  clear 
ahead?" 

"No  enemy  is  there.  Some  of  the  brakemen  have 
gone  on  a  mile  or  two  and  they  say  the  track  hasn't 
been  touched.  You  tell  Colone!  Newcomb  that  I'm 
bringing  the  train  right  down  to  the  battle  line." 

Dick  and  Warner  returned  quickly  to  Colonel  New- 
comb,  who  appreciated  Canby's  courage  and  presence 
of  mind.  As  the  train  approached  the  four  cannon 
were  unloaded  from  the  trucks,  and  swept  the  further 
shore  with  shell  and  shrapnel.  After  a  scattered  fire 
the  Southern  force  withdrew  some  distance,  where  it 
halted,  apparently  undecided.  The  clouds  rolled  up 
again,  the  feeble  moon  disappeared,  and  the  river  sank 
into  the  dark. 

"May  I  make  a  suggestion,  Colonel  Newcomb?" 
said  Major  Hertford. 

"Certainly." 

"The  enemy  will  probably  seek  an  undefended  ford 
much  higher  up,  cross  under  cover  of  the  new  dark- 
ness and  attack  us  in  heavy  force  on  the  flank.  Sup- 
pose we  get  aboard  the  train  at  once,  cannon  and  all, 
and  leave  them  far  behind." 

"Excellent.  If  the  darkness  covers  their  move- 

52 


THE    TELEGRAPH   STATION 

ments  it  also  covers  ours.  Load  the  train  as  fast  as 
possible  and  see  that  no  wounded  are  left  behind." 

He  gave  rapid  orders  to  all  his  officers  and  aides, 
and  in  fifteen  minutes  the  troops  were  aboard  the 
train  again,  the  cannon  were  lifted  upon  the  trucks, 
Canby  and  his  assistants  had  all  steam  up,  and  the 
train  with  its  usual  rattle  and  roar  resumed  its  flight 
into  the  west. 

Dick  and  Warner  were  in  the  first  coach  near 
Colonel  Newcomb,  ready  for  any  commands  that  he 
might  give.  Both  had  come  through  the  defense  of. 
the  ford  without  injury,  although  a  bullet  had  gone 
through  Dick's  coat  without  touching  the  skin.  Ser- 
geant Whitley,  too,  was  unharmed,  but  the  regiment 
had  suffered.  More  than  twenty  dead  were  left  in 
the  valley  for  the  enemy  to  bury. 

Despite  all  the  commands  and  efforts  of  the  officers 
there  was  much  excited  talk  in  the  train.  Boys  were 
binding  up  wounds  of  other  boys  and  were  condoling 
with  them.  But  on  the  whole  they  were  exultant. 
Youth  did  not  realize  the  loss  of  those  who  had  been 
with  them  so  little.  Scattered  exclamations  came  to 
Dick: 

"We  beat  'em  off  that  time,  an*  we  can  do  it  again." 

"Lucky  though  we  had  that  little  river  before  us. 
Guess  they'd  have  rode  us  right  down  with  their 
horses  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  stream  an'  its  banks." 

"Ouch,  don't  draw  that  bandage  so  tight  on  my 
arm.  It  ain't  nothin'  but  a  flesh  wound." 

"I  hate  a  battle  in  the  dark.  Give  me  the  good 
sunshine,  where  you  can  see  what's  goin'  on.  My 

53 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

God,  that  you  Bill!  I'm  tremendous  glad  to  see 
you!  I  thought  you  was  lyin'  still,  back  there  in  the 
grass!" 

Dick  said  nothing.  He  was  in  a  seat  next  to  the 
window,  and  his  face  was  pressed  against  the  rain- 
marked  pane.  The  rifle  that  he  had  picked  up  and 
used  so  well  was  still  clutched,  grimed  with  smoke, 
in  his  hands.  The  train  had  not  yet  got  up  speed. 
He  caught  glimpses  of  the  river  behind  which  they 
had  fought,  and  which  had  served  them  so  well  as  a 
barrier.  In  fact,  he  knew  that  it  had  saved  them.  But 
they  had  beaten  off  the  enemy!  The  pulses  in  his 
temples  still  throbbed  from  exertion  and  excitement, 
tut  his  heart  beat  exultantly.  The  bitterness  of  Bull 
Hun  was  deep  and  it  had  lasted  long,  but  here  they 
were  the  victors. 

The  speed  of  the  train  increased  and  Dick  knew 
that  they  were  safe  from  further  attack.  They  were 
still  running  among  mountains,  clad  heavily  in  forest, 
t»ut  a  meeting  with  a  second  Southern  force  was  be- 
yond probability.  The  first  had  made  a  quick  raid  on 
information  supplied  by  spies  in  Washington,  but  it 
had  failed  and  the  way  was  now  clear. 

Ample  food  was  served  somewhat  late  to  the  whole 
regiment,  the  last  wounds  were  bound  up,  and  Dick, 
"having  put  aside  the  rifle,  fell  asleep  at  last.  His  head 
lay  against  the  window  and  he  slept  heavily  all 
through  the  night.  Warner  in  the  next  seat  slept  in 
the  same  way.  But  the  wise  old  sergeant  just  across 
the  aisle  remained  awake  much  longer.  He  was  sum- 
iming  up  and  he  concluded  that  the  seven  hundred  lads 

54 


THE    TELEGRAPH    STATION 

had  done  well.  They  were  raw,  but  they  were  being 
whipped  into  shape. 

He  smiled  a  little  grimly  as  the  unspoken  words, 
"whipped  into  shape,"  rose  to  his  lips.  The  veteran 
of  many  an  Indian  battle  foresaw  something  vastly 
greater  than  anything  that  had  occurred  on  the  plains. 
"Whipped  into  shape !"  Why,  in  the  mighty  war  that 
was  gathering  along  a  front  of  two  thousand  miles 
no  soldier  could  escape  being  whipped  into  shape,  or 
being  whipped  out  of  it. 

But  the  sergeant's  own  eyes  closed  after  a  while, 
and  he,  too,  slept  the  sleep  of  utter  mental  and  physical 
exhaustion.  The  train  rumbled  on,  the  faithful 
Canby  in  the  first  engine  aware  of  his  great  responsi- 
bility and  equal  to  it.  Not  a  wink  of  sleep  for  him 
that  night.  The  darkness  had  lightened  somewhat 
more.  The  black  of  the  skies  had  turned  to  a  dusky 
blue,  and  the  bolder  stars  were  out.  He  could  always 
see  the  shining  rails  three  or  four  hundred  yards 
ahead,  and  he  sent  his  train  steadily  forward  at  full 
speed,  winding  among  the  gorges  and  rattling  over 
the  trestles.  The  silent  mountains  gave  back  every 
sound  in  dying  echoes,  but  Canby  paid  no  heed  to 
them.  His  eyes  were  always  on  the  track  ahead,  and 
he,  too,  was  exultant.  He  had  brought  the  regiment 
through,  and  while  it  was  on  the  train  his  responsi- 
bility was  not  inferior  to  that  of  Colonel  Newcomb. 

When  Dick  awoke,  bright  light  was  pouring  in  at 
the  car  windows,  but  the  car  was  cold  and  his  body 
was  stiff  and  sore.  His  military  overcoat  had  been 
thrown  over  him  in  the  night  and  Warner  had  been 

55 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

covered  in  the  same  way.  They  did  not  know  that 
Sergeant  Whitley  had  done  that  thoughtful  act. 

Dick  stretched  himself  and  drew  deep  breaths. 
Warm  youth  soon  sent  the  blood  flowing  in  a  full 
tide  through  his  veins,  and  the  stiffness  and  soreness 
departed.  He  saw  through  the  window  that  they  were 
still  running  among  the  mountains,  but  they  did  not 
seem  to  be  so  high  here  as  they  were  at  the  river  by 
which  they  had  fought  in  the  night.  He  knew  from 
his  geography  and  his  calculation  of  time  that  they 
must  be  far  into  that  part  of  Virginia  which  is  now 
West  Virginia. 

There  was  no  rain  now,  at  least  where  the  train  was 
running,  but  the  sun  had  risen  on  a  cold  world.  Far 
up  on  the  higher  peaks  he  saw  a  fine  white  mist  which 
he  believed  to  be  falling  snow.  Obviously  it  was  win- 
ter here  and  putting  on  the  big  military  coat  he  drew 
it  tightly  about  him.  Others  in  the  coach  were  wak- 
ing up  and  some  of  them,  grown  feverish  with  their 
wounds,  were  moving  restlessly  on  their  seats, 
where  they  lay  protected  by  the  blankets  of  their 
fellows. 

Dick  now  and  then  saw  a  cabin  nestling  in  the  lee 
of  a  hill,  with  the  blue  smoke  rising  from  its  chimney 
into  the  clear,  wintry  air,  and  small  and  poor  as  they 
were  they  gave  him  a  singular  sense  of  peace  and  com- 
fort. His  mind  felt  for  a  few  moments  a  strong 
reaction  from  war  and  its  terrors,  but  the  impulse  and 
the  strong  purpose  that  bore  him  on  soon  came  back. 

The  train  rushed  through  a  pass  and  entered  a  shel- 
tered valley  a  mile  or  two  wide  and  eight  or  ten  miles 

56 


THE   TELEGRAPH    STATION 

long.  A  large  creek  ran  through  it,  and  the  train 
stopped  at  a  village  on  its  banks.  The  whole  popula- 
tion of  the  village  and  all  the  farmers  of  the  valley 
were  there  to  meet  them.  It  was  a  Union  valley  and 
by  some  system  of  mountain  telegraphy,  although 
there  were  no  telegraph  wires,  news  of  the  battle  at 
the  ford  had  preceded  the  train. 

"Come,  lads,"  said  Colonel  Newcomb  to  his  staff. 
"Out  with  you!  We're  among  friends  here!" 

Dick  and  Warner  were  glad  enough  to  leave  the 
train.  The  air,  cold  as  it  was,  was  like  the  breath  of 
heaven  on  their  faces,  and  the  cheers  of  the  people 
were  like  the  trump  of  fame  in  their  ears.  Pretty 
girls  with  their  faces  in  red  hoods  or  red  comforters 
were  there  with  food  and  smoking  coffee.  Medicines 
for  the  wounded,  as  much  as  the  village  could  supply, 
had  been  brought  to  the  train,  and  places  were  already 
made  for  those  hurt  too 'badly  to  go  on  with  the  ex- 
pedition. 

The  whole  cheerful  scene,  with  its  life  and  move- 
ment, the  sight  of  new  faces  and  the  sound  of  many 
voices,  had  a  wonderful  effect  upon  young  Dick 
Mason.  He  had  a  marvellously  sensitive  tempera- 
ment, a  direct  inheritance  from  his  famous  border 
ancestor,  Paul  Cotter.  Things  were  always  vivid  to 
him.  Either  they  glowed  with  color,  or  they  were 
hueless  and  dead.  This  morning  the  long  strain  of 
the  night  and  its  battle  was  relaxed  completely.  The 
grass  in  the  valley  was  brown  with  frost,  and  the 
trees  were  shorn  of  their  leaves  by  the  winter  winds, 
but  to  Dick  it  was  the  finest  village  that  he  had  ever 

57 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

seen,  and  these  were  the  friendliest  people  in  the 
world. 

He  drank  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  handed  to  him  by  the 
stalwart  wife  of  a  farmer,  and  then,  when  she  in- 
sisted, drank  another. 

"You're  young  to  be  fightin',"  she  said  sympatheti- 
cally. 

"We  all  are,"  said  Dick  with  a  glance  at  the  regi- 
ment, "but  however  we  may  fight  you'll  never  find 
.anybody  attacking  a  breakfast  with  more  valor  and 
spirit  than  we  do." 

She  looked  at  the  long  line  of  lads,  drinking  coffee 
and  eating  ham,  bacon,  eggs,  and  hot  biscuits,  and 
smiled. 

"I  reckon  you  tell  the  truth,  young  feller,"  she  said, 
"but  it's  good  to  see  'em  go  at  it." 

She  passed  on  to  help  others,  and  Dick,  summoned 
by  Colonel  Newcomb,  went  into  a  little  railroad  and 
telegraph  station.  The  telegraph  wires  had  been  cut 
behind  them,  but  ten  miles  across  the  mountains  the 
spur  of  another  railroad  touched  a  valley.  The  sec- 
ond railroad  looped  toward  the  north,  and  it  was 
absolutely  sure  that  it  was  beyond  the  reach  of  South- 
ern raiders.  Colonel  Newcomb  wished  to  send  a  mes- 
sage to  the  Secretary  of  War  and  the  President,  tell- 
ing of  the  night's  events  and  his  triumphant  passage 
through  the  ordeal.  These  circumstances  might  make 
them  wish  to  change  his  orders,  and  at  any  rate  the 
commander  of  the  regiment  wished  to  be  sure  of 
what  he  was  doing. 

"You're  a  Kentuckian  and  a  good  horseman,"  said 

58 


Colonel  Newcomb  to  Dick.  "The  villagers  have  sent 
me  a  trusty  man,  one  Bill  Petty,  as  a  guide.  Take 
Sergeant  Whitley  and  you  three  go  to  the  station- 
I've  already  written  my  dispatches,  and  I  put  therm 
in  your  care.  Have  them  sent  at  once,  and  if  neces- 
sary wait  four  hours  for  an  answer.  If  it  comes,  ride 
back  as  fast  as  you  can.  The  horses  are  ready  and 
I  rely  upon  you." 

"Thank  you,  sir,  I'll  do  my  best,"  said  Dick,  who 
deeply  appreciated  the  colonel's  confidence.  He 
wasted  no  time  in  words,  but  went  at  once  to  Ser- 
geant Whitley,  who  was  ready  in  five  minutes.  War- 
ner, who  heard  of  the  mission,  was  disappointed  be- 
cause he  was  not  going  too.  But  he  was  philosophical. 

"'I've  made  a  close  calculation,"  he  said,  "and  I 
have  demonstrated  to  my  own  satisfaction  that  our 
opportunities  are  sixty  'per  cent  energy  and  ability, 
twenty  per  cent  manners,  and  twenty  per  cent  chance. 
In  this  case  chance,  which  made  the  Colonel  better 
acquainted  with  you  than  with  me,  was  in  your  favor. 
We  won't  discuss  the  other  eighty  per  cent,  because 
this  twenty  is  enough.  Besides  it  looks  pretty  cold  on 
the  mountains,  and  its  fine  here  in  the  village.  But 
luck  with  you,  Dick." 

He  gave  his  comrade's  hand  a  strong  grasp  and 
walked  away  toward  the  little  square  of  the  village, 
where  the  troops  were  encamped  for  the  present. 
Dick  sprang  upon  a  horse  which  Bill  Petty  was  hold- 
ing for  him.  Whitley  was  already  up,  and  the  three 
rode  swiftly  toward  a  blue  line  which  marked  a  cleft 
between  two  ridges.  Dick  first  observed  their  guide. 

59 


THE    GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

Bill  Petty  was  a  short  but  very  stout  man,  clad  in  a 
suit  of  home-made  blue  jeans,  the  trousers  of  which 
were  thrust  into  high  boots  with  red  tops.  A  heavy 
shawl  of  dark  red  was  wrapped  around  his  shoulders, 
and  beneath  his  broad-brimmed  hat  a  red  woolen  com- 
forter covered  his  ears,  cheeks,  and  chin.  His  thick 
hair  and  a  thick  beard  clothing  his  entire  face  were 
a  flaming  red.  The  whole  effect  of  the  man  was  some- 
what startling,  but  when  he  saw  Dick  looking  at  him 
in  curiosity  his  mouth  opened  wide  in  a  grin  of  ex- 
treme good  nature. 

'"I  guess  you  think  I'm  right  red,"  he  said.  "Well, 
I  am,  an'  as  you  see  I  always  dress  to  suit  my  com- 
plexion. Guess  I'll  warm  up  the  road  some  on  a 
winter  day  like  this." 

"Would  you  mind  my  callin'  you  Red  Blaze?" 
asked  Sergeant  Whitley  gravely. 

"Not-a-tall!  Not-a-tall!  I'd  like  it.  I  guess  it's 
sorter  pictorial  an'  'maginative  like  them  knights  of 
old  who  had*  fancy  names  'cordin'  to  their  qualities. 
People  'round  here  are  pretty  plain,  an'  they've  never 
called  me  nothin'  but  Bill.  Red  Blaze  she  is." 

"An'  Blaze  for  short.  Well,  then,  Blaze,  what  kind 
of  a  road  is  that  we're  goin'  to  ride  on  ?" 

"Depends  on  the  kind  of  weather  in  which  you 
ask  the  question.  As  it's  the  fust  edge  of  winter  here 
in  the  mountains,  though  it  ain't  quite  come  in  the 
lowlands,  an'  as  it's  rained  a  !ot  in  the  last  week,  I 
reckon  you'll  find  it  bad.  Mebbe  our  hosses  will  go 
down  in  the  road  to  thar  knees,  but  I  guess  they  won't 
sink  up  to  thar  bodies.  They  may  stumble  an'  throw 

60 


THE    TELEGRAPH    STATION 

us,  but  as  we'll  hit  in  soft  mud  it  ain't  likely  to  hurt 
us.  It  may  rain  hard,  'cause  I  see  clouds  heapin'  up 
thar  in  the  west.  An'  if  it  rains  the  cold  may  then 
freeze  a  skim  of  ice  over  the  road,  on  which  we  could 
slip  an'  break  our  necks,  bosses  an'  all.  Then  thar 
are  some  cliffs  close  to  the  road.  If  we  was  to  slip 
on  that  thar  skim  of  ice  which  we've  reckoned  might 
come,  then  mebbe  we'd  go  over  one  of  them  cliffs  and 
drop  down  a  hundred  feet  or  so  right  swift.  If  it 
was  soft  mud  down  below  we  might  not  get  hurt 
mortal.  But  it  ain't  soft  mud.  We'd  hit  right  in  the 
middle  of  sharp,  hard  rocks.  An'  if  a  gang  of  rebel 
sharpshooters  has  wandered  up  here  they  may  see  us 
an'  chase  us  'way  off  into  the  mountains,  where  we'd 
break  our  necks  fallin'  off  the  ridges  or  freeze  to 
death  or  starve  to  death." 

Whitley  stared  at  him: 

"Blaze,"  he  exclaimed,  "what  kind  of  a  man  are 
you  anyway?" 

"Me  ?  I'm  the  happiest  man  in  the  valley.  When 
people  are  low  down  they  come  an'  talk  to  me  to  get 
cheered  up.  I  always  lay  the  worst  before  you  first 
an'  then  shove  it  out  of  the  way.  None  of  them 
things  that  I  was  conjurin'  up  is  goin'  to  happen.  I 
was  just  tellin'  you  of  the  things  you  was  goin'  to 
escape,  and  now  you'll  feel  good,  knowin'  what  dan- 
gers you  have  passed  before  they  happened." 

Dick  laughed.  He  liked  this  intensely  red  man  with 
his  round  face  and  twinkling  eyes.  He  saw,  too, 
that  the  mountaineer  was  a  fine  horseman,  and  as  he 
carried  a  long  slender-barreled  rifle  over  his  shoulder, 

61 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

while  a  double-barreled  pistol  was  thrust  in  his  belt, 
it  was  likely  that  he  would  prove  a  formidable  enemy 
to  any  who  sought  to  stop  him. 

"Perhaps  your  way  is  wise,"  said  the  boy.  "You 
begin  with  the  bad  and  end  with  the  good.  What  is 
the  name  of  this  place  to  which  we  are  going?" 

"Hubbard.  There  was  a  pioneer  who  fit  the  Injuns 
in  here  in  early  times.  I  never  heard  that  he  got 
much,  'cept  a  town  named  after  him.  But  Hubbard 
is  a  right  peart  little  place,  with  a  bank,  two  stores, 
three  churches,  an'  nigj?  on  to  two  hundred  people. 
Are  you  wrapped  up  well,  Mr.  Mason,  'cause  it's  goin' 
to  be  cold  on  the  mountains?" 

Dick  wore  heavy  boots,  and  a  long,  heavy  military 
coat  which  fell  below  his  knees  and  which  also  had 
a  high  collar  protecting  his  ears.  He  was  provided 
also  with  heavy  buckskin  gloves.  The  sergeant  was 
clad  similarly. 

"I  think  I'm  clothed  against  any  amount  of  cold," 
he  replied. 

"Well,  you  need  to  be,"  said  Petty,  "  'cause  the  pass 
through  which  we're  goin'  is  at  least  fifteen  hundred 
feet  above  Townsville — that's  our  village — an'  I 
reckon  it's  just  'bout  as  high  over  Hubbard.  Them 
fifteen  hundred  feet  make  a  pow'ful  difference  in 
climate,  as  you'll  soon  find  out.  It's  not  only  colder 
thar,  but  the  winds  are  always  blowin'  hard  through  the 
pass.  Jesf  look  back  at  Townsville.  Ain't  she  fine  an* 
neat  down  thar  in  the  valley,  beside  that  clear  creek 
which  higher  up  in  the  mountains  is  full  of  the  juiciest 
an'  sweetest  trout  that  man  ever  stuck  a  tooth  into." 

62 


THE    TELEGRAPH    STATION 

Dick  saw  that  Petty  was  talkative,  but  he  did  not 
mind.  In  fact,  both  he  and  Whitley  liked  the  man's 
joyous  and  unbroken  run  of  chatter.  He  turned  in 
his  saddle  and  looked  back,  following  the  stout  man's 
pointing  finger.  Townsville,  though  but  a  little  moun- 
tain town  built  mainly  of  logs,  was  indeed  a  jewel, 
softened  and  with  a  silver  sheen  thrown  over  it  by 
the  mountain  air  which  was  misty  that  morning.  He 
dimly  saw  the  long  black  line  of  the  train  standing 
on  the  track,  and  here  and  there  warm  rings  of  smoke 
rose  from  the  chimneys  and  floated  up  into  the  heav- 
ens, where  they  were  lost. 

He  thought  he  could  detect  little  figures  moving  be- 
side the  train  and  he  knew  that  they  must  be  those 
of  his  comrades.  He  felt  for  a  moment  a  sense  of 
loneliness.  He  had  not  known  these  lads  long,  but 
the  battle  had  bound  them  firmly  together.  They  had 
been  comrades  in  danger  and  that  made  them  com- 
rades as  long  as  they  lived. 

"Greatest  town  in  the  world,"  said  Petty,  waving 
toward  it  a  huge  hand,  encased  in  a  thick  yarn  glove. 
"I've  traveled  from  it  as  much  as  fifty  miles  in  every 
direction,  north,  south,  east,  an'  west,  an'  I  ain't  never 
seed  its  match.  I  reckon  I'm  somethin'  of  a  traveler, 
but  every  time  I  come  back  to  Townsville,  I  think  all 
the  more  of  it,  seein'  how  much  better  it  is  than  any- 
thing else." 

Dick  glanced  at  the  mountaineer,  and  saw  that  there 
could  be  no  doubt  of  his  sincerity. 

"You're  a  lucky  man,  Mr.  Petty,"  he  said,  "to  live 
in  the  finest  place  in  the  world." 

63 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"Yes,  if  I  don't  get  drug  off  to  the  war.  I'm  not 
hankerin'  for  fightin'  an'  I  don't  know  much  what  the 
war's  about  though  I'm  for  the  Union,  fust  to  last, 
an'  that's  the  way  most  of  the  people  'bout  here  feel. 
Turn  your  heads  ag'in,  friends,  an'  take  another  look 
at  Townsville." 

Dick  and  Whitley  glanced  back  and  saw  only  the 
blank  gray  wall  of  the  mountain.  Petty  laughed. 
He  was  the  finest  laugher  that  Dick  had  ever  heard. 
The  laugh  did  not  merely  come  from  the  mouth,  it 
was  also  exuded,  pouring  out  through  every  pore. 
It  was  rolling,  unctuous,  and  so  strong  that  Petty  not 
only  shook  with  it,  but  his  horse  seemed  to  shake  also. 
It  was  mellow,  too,  with  an  organ  note  that  comes  of 
a  mighty  lung  and  throat,  and  of  pure  air  breathed 
all  the  year  around. 

"Thought  I'd  git  the  joke  on  you,"  he  said,  when  he 
stopped  laughing.  "The  road's  been  slantin'  into  the 
mountains,  without  you  knowin'  it,  and  Townsville  is 
cut  off  by  the  cliffs.  You'll  find  it  gettin'  wilder  now 
'till  we  start  down  the  slope  on  the  other  side.  Lucky 
our  bosses  are  strong,  'cause  the  mud  is  deeper  than  I 
thought  it  would  be." 

It  was  not  really  a  road  that  they  were  following, 
merely  a  path,  and  the  going  was  painful.  Under 
Petty's  instructions  they  stopped  their  mounts  now  and 
then  for  a  rest,  and  a  mile  further  on  they  began  to 
feel  a  rising  wind. 

"It's  the  wind  that  I  told  you  of,"  said  Petty.  "It's 
sucked  through  six  or  seven  miles  of  pass,  an'  it  will 
blow  straight  in  our  faces  all  the  way.  As  we'll  be 

64 


THE    TELEGRAPH    STATION 

goin'  up  for  a  long  distance  you'll  find  it  growin' 
colder,  too.  But  you've  got  to  remember  that  after 
you  pass  them  cold  winds  an'  go  down  the  slops  you'll 
strike  another  warm  little  valley,  the  one  in  which 
Hubbard  is  layin'  so  neat  an'  so  snug." 

Dick  had  already  noticed  the  increasing  coldness 
and  so  had  the  sergeant.  Whitley,  from  his  long  ex- 
perience on  the  plains,  had  the  keenest  kind  of  an  eye 
for  climatic  changes.  He  noticed  with  some  appre- 
hension that  the  higher  peaks  were  clothed  in  thick, 
cold  fog,  but  he  said  nothing  to  the  brave  boy  whom 
he  had  grown  to  love  like  a  son.  But  both  he  and 
Dick  drew  their  heavy  coats  closer  and  were  thankful 
for  the  buckskin  gloves,  without  which  their  hands 
would  have  stiffened  on.  the  reins. 

Now  they  rode  in  silence  with  their  heads  bent  well 
forward,  because  the  wind  was  becoming  fiercer  and 
fiercer.  Over  the  peaks  the  fogs  were  growing  thicker 
and  darker  and  after  a  while  the  sharp  edge  of  the 
wind  was  wet  with  rain.  It  stung  their  faces,  and 
they  drew  their  hat  brims  lower  and  their  coat  collars 
higher  to  protect  themselves  from  such  a  cutting 
blast. 

"Told  you  we  might  have  trouble,"  called  Petty, 
cheerfully,  "but  if  you  ride  right  on  through  trouble 
you'll  leave  trouble  behind.  Nor  this  ain't  nothin' 
either  to  what  we  kin  expect  before  we  git  to  the  top 
of  the  pass.  Cur'us  what  a  pow'ful  lot  human  bein's 
kin  stand  when  they  make  up  their  minds  to  it." 

"Are  the  horses  well  shod?"  asked  Whitley. 

"Best  shod  in  the  world,  'cause  I  done  it  myself. 

65 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

That's  my  trade,  blacksmith,  an'  I'm  a  good  one  if  I 
do  say  it  I  heard  before  we  started  that  you  had 
been  a  soldier  in  the  west.  I  s'pose  that  you  had  to 
look  mighty  close  to  your  hosses  then.  A  man 
couldn't  afford  to  be  ridin'  a  hoss  made  lame  by  bad 
shoein'  when  ten  thousand  yellin'  Sioux  or  Blackfeet 
was  after  him." 

"No,  you  couldn't,"  replied  the  sergeant.  "Out 
there  you  had  to  watch  every  detail.  That's  one  of 
the  things  that  fightin'  Indians  taught.  You  had  to 
be  watchin'  all  the  time  an'  I  reckon  the  trainin'  will 
be  of  value  in  this  war.  Are  we  mighty  near  to  the 
top  of  the  pass,  Mr.  Petty?" 

"Got  two  or  three  miles  yet.  The  slope,  is  steeper 
on  the  other  side.  We  rise  a  lot  more  before  we  hit 
the  top." 

The  wind  grew  stronger  with  every  rod  they 
ascended,  and  the  horses  began  to  pant  with  their 
severe  exertions.  At  Petty's  suggestion  the  three 
riders  dismounted  and  walked  for  a  while,  leading 
their  horses.  The  rain  turned  to  a  fine  hail  and  stung 
their  faces.  Had  it  not  been  for  his  two  good  com- 
rades Dick  would  have  found  his  situation  inexpressi- 
bly lonely  and  dreary.  The  heavy  fog  now  enveloped 
all  the  peaks  and  ridges  and  filled  every  valley  and 
chasm.  He  could  see  only  fifteen  or  twenty  yards 
ahead  along  the  muddy  path,  and  the  fine  hail  which 
gave  every  promise  of  becoming  a  storm  of  sleet 
stung  continually.  The  wind  confined  in  the  narrow 
gorge  also  uttered  a  hideous  shrieking  and  moaning. 

"Tests  your  nerve!"  shouted  Petty  to  Dick. 

66 


THE    TELEGRAPH    STATION 

'There  are  hard  things  besides  battles  to  stand,  an' 
this  is  goin'  to  be  one  of  the  hard  ones,  but  if  you 
go  through  it  all  right  you  kin  go  through  any  number 
of  the  same  kind  all  right,  too.  Likely  the  sleet  will 
be  so  thick  that  it  will  make  a  sheet  of  slippery  ice 
for  us  comin'  back.  Now,  hosses  that  ain't  got  calks 
on  thar  shoes  are  pretty  shore  to  slip  an'  fall,  breakin' 
a  leg  or  two,  an'  mebbe  breakin'  the  necks  of  thar 
riders." 

Dick  looked  at  him  with  some  amazement.  Despite 
his  announcement  of  dire  disaster  the  man's  eyes 
twinkled  merrily  and  the  round,  red  outline  of  his 
bushy  head  in  the  scarlet  comforter' made  a  cheerful 
blaze. 

"It's  jest  as  I  told  you,"  said  Petty,  meeting  the 
boy's  look.  "Without  calks  on  thar  shoes  our  hosses 
are  pretty  shore  to  slip  on  the  ice  and  break  their- 
selves  up,  or  fall  down  a  cliff  an'  break  themselves 
up  more." 

"Then  why  in  thunder,  Blaze,"  exclaimed  Whitley, 
"did  we  start  without  calks  on  the  shoes  of  our 
horses?" 

Red  Blaze  broke  into  a  deep  mellow  laugh,  starting 
from  the  bottom  of  his  diaphragm,  swelling  as  it 
passed  through  his  chest,  swelling  again  as  it  passed 
through  throat  and  mouth,  and  bursting  upon  the 
open  air  in  a  mighty  diapason  that  rose  cheerfully 
above  the  shrieking  and  moaning  of  the  wind. 

"We  didn't  start  without  'em,"  he  replied.  "The 
twelve  feet  of  these  three  hosses  have  on  'em  the  finest 
calked  shoes  in  all  these  mountains.  I  put  'em  on 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

myself,  beginnin'  the  job  this  mornin'  before  you  was 
awake,  your  colonel,  on  the  advice  of  the  people  of 
Townsville  who  know  me  as  one  of  its  leadin'  an' 
trusted  citizens,  havin'  selected  me  as  the  guide  of  this 
trip.  I  was  jest  tellin'  you  what  would  happen  to  you 
if  I  didn't  justify  the  confidence  of  the  people  of 
Townsville." 

"I  allow,  Red  Blaze,"  said  the  sergeant  with  con- 
fidence, "that  you  ain't  no  fool,  an'  that  you're  lookin' 
out  for  our  best  interests.  Lead  on." 

Red  Blaze's  mellow  and  pleased  laugh  rose  once 
more  above  the  whistling  of  the  wind. 

"You  kin  ride*  ag'in  now,  boys,"  he  said.  "The 
hosses  are  pretty  well  rested." 

They  resumed  the  saddle  gladly  and  now  mounted 
toward  the  crest  of  the  pass.  The  sleet  turned  to 
snow,  which  was  a  relief  to  their  faces,  and  Dick, 
with  the  constant  beating  of  wind  and  snow,  began 
to  feel  a  certain  physical  exhilaration.  He  realized 
the  truth  of  Red  Blaze's  assertion  that  if  you  stiffen 
your  back  and  push  your  way  through  troubles  you 
leave  troubles  behind. 

They  rode  now  in  silence  for  quite  a  while,  and 
then  Red  Blaze  suddenly  announced: 

"We're  at  the  top,  boys." 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  PASS 

THE  three  halted  their  horses  and  stood  for  a 
minute  or  two  on  the  very  crest  of  the  pass. 
The  fierce  wind  out  of  the  northwest  blew  di- 
rectly in  their  faces  and  both  riders  and  horses  alike 
were  covered  with  snow..  But  Dick  felt  a  wonderful 
thrill  as  he  gazed  upon  the  vast  white  wilderness. 
East  and  west,  north  and  south  he  saw  the  driving 
snow  and  the  lofty  peaks  and  ridges  showing  through 
it,  white  themselves.  The  towns  below  and  the  cabins 
that  snuggled  in  the  coves  were  completely  hidden. 
They  could  see  no  sign  of  human  life  on  slope  or  in 
valley. 

"Looks  as  wild  as  the  Rockies,"  said  the  sergeant 
tersely. 

"But  you  won't  find  any  Injuns  here  to  ambush 
you,"  said  Red  Blaze,  "though  I  don't  make  any  gua- 
rantee against  bushwhackers  and  guerillas,  who'll 
change  sides  as  often  as  two  or  three  times  a  day,  if 
it  will  suit  their  convenience.  They  could  hide  in  the 
woods  along  the  road  an'  pick  us  off  as  easy  as  I'd 
shoot  a  squirrel  out  of  a  tree.  They'd  like  to  have 
our  arms  an'  our  big  coats.  I  tell  you  what,  friends, 

69 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

a  mighty  civil  war  like  ours  gives  a  tremenjeous  op- 
portunity to  bad  men.  They're  all  comin'  to  the  top. 
Every  rascal  in  the  mountains  an'  in  the  lowlands,  too, 
I  guess,  is  out  lookin'  for  plunder  an'  wuss." 

"You're  right,  Red  Blaze,"  said  the  sergeant  with 
emphasis,  "an'  it  won't  be  stopped  until  the  generals 
on  both  sides  begin  to  hang  an'  shoot  the  plunderers 
an'  murderers." 

"But  they  can't  ketch  'em  all,"  said  Red  Blaze.  "A 
Yankee  general  with  a  hundred  thousand  men  will  be 
out  lookin'  for  what?  Not  for  a  gang  of  robbers,  not 
by  a  jugful.  He'll  be  lookin'  for  a  rebel  general  with 
another  hundred  thousand  men,  an'  the  rebel  general 
with  a  hundred  thousand  men  will  be  lookin'  for  that 
Yankee  general  with  his  hundred  thousand.  So 
there  you  are,  an'  while  they're  lookin'  for  each  other 
an'  then  fightin'  each  other  to  a  standstill,  the  robbers 
will  be  plunderin'  an'  murderin'.  But  don't  you  worry 
about  bein'  ambushed.  I  was  jest  tellin'  you  what 
might  happen,  but  wouldn't  happen.  We  kin  go  down 
hill  fast  now,  and  we'll  soon  be  in  Hubbard,  which  is 
the  other  side  of  all  that  fallin'  snow." 

The  road  down  the  mountain  was  also  better  than 
the  one  by  which  they  had  ascended,  and  as  the  horses 
with  their  calked  shoes  were  swift  of  foot  they 
made  rapid  progress.  As  they  descended,  the  wind 
lowered  fast  and  there  was  much  less  snow.  Red 
Blaze  said  it  was  probably  not  snowing  in  the  valley 
at  all. 

"See  that  shinin'  in  the  sun,"  he  said.  "That's  the 
tin  coverin'  on  the  steeple  of  the  new  church  in  Hub- 

70 


bard.  The  sun  strikes  squar'ly  on  it,  an'  now  I  know 
I'm  right  'bout  it  not  snowin'  down  thar.  Wait  'til 
we  turn  'roun'  this  big  rock.  Yes,  thar's  Hubbard, 
lay  in'  out  in  the  valley  without  a  drop  of  snow  on  her. 
It  looks  good,  don't  it,  friends,  with  the  smoke  comin' 
out  of  the  chimneys.  That  little  red  house  over  thar 
is  the  railroad  an'  telegraph  station,  an'  we'll  go 
straight  for  it,  'cause  we  ain't  got  no  time  to  waste." 

They  emerged  into  the  valley  and  rode  rapidly  for 
the  station.  Farmers  on  the  outskirts  and  villagers 
looked  wonderingly  at  them,  but  they  did  not  pause 
to  answer  questions.  They  galloped  their  tired 
mounts  straight  for  the  little  red  building,  which  was 
the  station.  Dick  sprang  first  from  his  horse,  and 
leaving  it  to  stand  at  the  door,  ran  inside.  A  tele- 
graph instrument  was  clicking  mournfully  in  the  cor- 
ner. A  hot  stove  was  in  another  corner,  and  sitting 
near  it  was  a  lad  of  about  Dick's  age,  clad  in  moun- 
tain jeans,  and  lounging  in  an  old  cane-bottomed 
chair.  But  Dick's  quick  glance  saw  that  the  boy  was 
bright  of  face  and  keen  of  eye.  He  promptly  drew 
out  his  papers  and  said: 

"I'm  an  aide  from  the  Northern  regiment  of  Colonel 
Newcomb  at  Townsville.  Here  are  duplicate  dis- 
patches, one  set  for  the  President  of  the  United  States 
and  the  other  for  the  Secretary  of  War.  They  tell 
of  a  successful  fight  that  we  had  last  night  with 
Southern  troops,  presumably  the  cavalrymen  of  Tur- 
ner Ashby.  I  wish  you  to  send  them  at  once." 

"He's  speakin'  the  exact  truth,  Jim,"  said  Red 
Blaze,  who  had  come  in  behind  Dick,  "an'  I've 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

brought  him  an'  the  sergeant  here  over  the  moun- 
tains to  tell  about  it." 

The  boy  sprang  to  his  instrument.  But  he  stopped 
a  moment  to  ask  one  question. 

"Did  you  really  beat  'em  off?"  he  asked  as  he 
looked  up  with  shining  eye. 

"We  certainly  did,"  replied  Dick. 

"I'll  send  it  faster  than  I  ever  sent  anything  be- 
fore," said  the  boy.  "To  think  of  me,  Jim  Johnson, 
sending  a  dispatch  to  Abraham  Lincoln,  telling  of  a 
victory !" 

"I  reckon  you're  right,  Jim,  it's  your  chance,"  said 
Red  Blaze. 

Jim  bent  over  the  instrument  which  now  began  to 
click  steadily  and  fast. 

"You're  to  wait  for  answers,"  said  Dick. 

The  boy  nodded,  but  his  shining  eyes  remained  bent 
over  the  instrument.  Dick  went  to  the  door,  brushed 
off  the  snow,  came  back  and  sat  down  by  the  stove. 
Sergeant  Whitley,  who  had  tied  the  horses  to  hitching 
posts,  came  in,  pulled  up  an  empty  box  and  sat  down 
by  him.  Red  Blaze  slipped  away  unnoticed.  But  he 
came  back  very  soon,  and  men  and  women  came  with 
him,  bringing  food  and  smoking  coffee.  There  was 
enough  for  twenty. 

Red  Blaze  had  spread  among  the  villagers,  every 
one  of  whom  he  knew,  the  news  that  the  Union  arms 
had  won  a  victory.  Nor  had  it  suffered  anything  in 
the  telling.  Colonel  Newcomb's  regiment,  by  the 
most  desperate  feats  of  gallantry,  had  beaten  off  at 
least  ten  thousand  Southerners,  and  the  boy  and  the 

72 


THE    FIGHT   IN    THE    PASS 

man  in  uniform,  who  were  resting  by  the  fire  in  the 
station,  had  been  the  greatest  two  heroes  of  a  battle 
waged  for  a  whole  night. 

Curious  eyes  gazed  at  Dick  and  the  sergeant  as 
they  sat  there  by  the  stove.  Dick  himself,  warm,  re- 
laxed, and  the  needs  of  his  body  satisfied,  felt  like 
going  to  sleep.  But  he  watched  the  boy  operator,  who 
presently  finished  his  two  dispatches  and  then  lifted 
his  head  for  the  first  time. 

"They've  gone  straight  into  Washington,"  he  said. 
"We  ought  to  get  an  answer  soon." 

"We'll  wait  here  for  it,"  said  Dick. 

The  three  messengers  were  now  thoroughly  warmed 
at  the  stove,  they  had  eaten  heartily  of  the  best  the 
village  could  furnish,  and  a  great  feeling  of  comfort 
pervaded  them.  While  they  were  waiting  for  the 
reply  that  they  hoped  would  come  from  Washington, 
Dick  Mason  and  Sergeant  Whitley  went  outside.  No 
snow  was  falling  in  the  valley,  but  off  on  the  moun- 
tain crest  they  still  saw  the  white  veil,  blown  by  the 
wind. 

Red  Blaze  joined  them  and  was  everywhere  their 
guide  and  herald.  He  ascribed  to  them  such  deeds 
of  skill  and  valor  that  thy  were  compelled  to  call  him 
the  best  romancer  they  had  met  in  a  long  time. 

"I  suppose  that  if  Mr.  Warner  were  here,"  said  the 
sergeant,  "he  would  reduce  these  statements  to  mathe- 
matics, ten  per  cent  fact  an'  ninety  per  cent  fancy." 

"Just  about  that,"  said  Dick. 

Red  Blaze  came  to  them  presently,  bristling  with 
news. 

73 


THE    GUNS    OF   SHILOH 

"A  farmer  from  a  hollow  further  to  the  west,"  he 
said,  "has  just  come  in,  an'  he  says  that  a  band  of 
guerillas  is  ridin'  through  the  hills.  'Bout  twenty  of 
them,  he  said,  led  by  a  big  dark  fellow,  his  face  cov- 
ered with  black  beard.  They've  been  liftin'  hosses  an' 
takin'  other  things,  but  they're  strangers  in  these 
parts.  Tom  Sykes,  who  was  held  up  by  them  an' 
robbed  of  his  hoss,  says  that  the  rest  of  'em  called 
their  leader  Skelly.  Tom  seemed  to  think  that  mebbe 
they  came  from  somewhere  in  the  Kentucky  moun- 
tains. They  called  themselves  a  scoutin'  party  of  the 
Southern  army. 

Dick  started  violently. 

"Why,  I  know  this  man  Skelly,"  he  said.  "He 
lives  in  the  mountains  to  the  eastward  of  my  home  in 
Kentucky.  He  organized  a  band  at  the  beginning  of 
the  war,  but  over  there  he  said  he  was  fightin'  for 
the  North." 

"He'll  be  fightin'  for  his  own  hand,"  said  the  ser- 
geant sternly.  "But  he  can't  play  double  all  the  time. 
That  sort  of  thing  will  bring  a  man  to  the  end  of  a 
rope,  with  clear  air  under  his  feet" 

"I'm  glad  you've  told  me  this,"  said  Red  Blaze. 
"Skelly  might  have  come  ridin'  in  here,  claimin'  that 
he  an'  his  men  was  Northern  troops,  an'  then  when 
we  wasn't  suspectin'  might  have  held  up  the  whole 
town.  I'll  warn  'em.  Thar  ain't  a  house  here  that 
hasn't  got  two  or  three  rifles  an'  shotguns  in  it,  an' 
with  the  farmers  from  the  valley  joinin'  in  Hubbard 
could  wipe  out  the  whole  gang." 

"Tell  them  to  be  on  guard  all  the  time,  Red  Blaze," 

74 


THE    FIGHT   IN    THE    PASS 

said  Whitley  with  strong  emphasis.  "In  war  you've 
got  to  watch,  watch,  watch.  Always  know  what  the 
other  fellow  is  doin',  if  you  can." 

"Let's  go  back  to  the  station,"  said  Dick.  "Maybe 
we'll  have  an  answer  soon." 

They  found  the  young  operator  hanging  over  his 
instrument,  his  eyes  still  shining.  He  had  been  in 
that  position  ever  since  they  left  him,  and  Dick  knew 
that  his  eagerness  to  get  an  answer  from  Washington 
kept  him  there,  mind  and  body  waiting  for  the  tick  of 
the  key. 

Dick,  the  sergeant,  and  Red  Blaze  sat  down  by  the 
stove  again,  and  rested  there  quietly  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour.  Red  Blaze  was  thinking  that  it  would  be 
another  cold  ride  back  over  the  pass.  The  sergeant, 
although  he  was  not  sleepy,  closed  his  eyes  and  saw 
again  the  vast  rolling  plains,  the  herds  of  buffalo 
spreading  to  the  horizon,  and  the  bands  of  Sioux  and 
Cheyennes  galloping  down,  their  great  war  bonnets 
making  splashes  of  color  against  the  thin  blue  sky. 
Dick  was  thinking  of  Pendleton,  the  peaceful  little 
town  in  Kentucky  that  was  his  home,  and  of  his  cou- 
sin, Harry  Kenton.  He  did  not  know  now  where 
Harry  was,  and  he  did  not  even  know  whether  he  was 
dead  or  alive. 

Dick  sighed  a  little,  and  just  at  that  moment  the 
telegraph  key  began  to  click. 

"The  answer  is  coming!"  exclaimed  the  young  oper- 
ator excitedly  and  then  he  bent  closer  over  the  key 
to  take  it.  The  three  chairs  straightened  up,  and  they, 
too,  bent  toward  the  key.  The  boy  wrote  rapidly,  but 

75 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

the  clicking  did  not  go  on  long.  When  it  ceased  he 
straightened  up  with  his  finished  message  in  his  hand. 
His  face  was  flushed  and  his  eyes  still  shining.  He 
folded  the  paper  and  handed  it  to  Dick. 

"It's  for  you,  Mr.  Mason,"  he  said. 

Dick  unfolded  it  and  read  aloud: 

"Colonel  John  D.  Newcomb: 

"Congratulations  on  your  success  and  fine  manage- 
ment of  your  troops.  Victory  worth  much  to  us. 
Read  dispatch  to  regiment  and  continue  westward  to 
original  destination. 

A.   LINCOLN." 

Dick's  face  glowed,  and  the  sergeant's  teeth  came 
together  with  a  little  click  of  satisfaction. 

"When  I  saw  that  it  was  to  be  read  to  the  regiment 
I  thought  it  no  harm  to  read  it  to  the  rest  of  you," 
said  Dick,  as  he  refolded  the  precious  dispatch  and 
put  it  in  his  safest  pocket.  "Now,  sergeant,  I  think 
we  ought  to  be  off  at  full  speed." 

"Not  a  minute  to  waste,"  said  Sergeant  Whitley. 

Their  horses  had  been  fed  and  were  rested  well. 
The  three  bade  farewell  to  the  young  operator,  then  to 
almost  all  of  Hubbard  and  proceeded  in  a  trot  for  the 
pass.  They  did  not  speak  until  they  were  on  the  first 
slope,  and  then  the  sergeant,  looking  up  at  the  heights, 
asked : 

"Shall  we  have  snow  again  on  our  return,  Red 
Blaze?  I  hope  not.  It's  important  for  us  to  get  back 
to  Townsville  without  any  waste  of  time." 

76 


THE    FIGHT    IN    THE    PASS 

"I  hate  to  bring  bad  news,"  replied  Red  Blaze,  "but 
we'll  shore  have  more  snow.  See  them  clouds,  sailin' 
up  an'  always  sailin'  up  from  the  southwest,  an'  see 
that  white  mist  'roun'  the  highest  peaks.  That's  snow, 
an'  it'll  hit  the  pass  just  as  it  did  when  we  was  comin' 
over.  But  we've  got  this  in  favor  of  ourselves  an' 
our  hosses  now:  The  wind  is  on  our  backs." 

They  rode  hard  now.  Dick  had  received  the  pre- 
cious message  from  the  President,  and  it  would  be  a 
proud  moment  for  him  when  he  put  it  in  the  hands 
of  the  colonel.  He  did  not  wish  that  moment  to  be 
delayed.  Several  times  he  patted  the  pocket  in  which 
the  paper  lay. 

As  they  ascended,  the  wind  increased  in  strength, 
but  being  on  their  backs  now  it  seemed  to  help  them 
along.  They  were  soon  high  up  on  the  slopes  and 
then  they  naturally  turned  for  a  parting  look  at  Hub- 
bard  in  its  valley,  a  twin  to  that  of  Townsville.  It 
looked  from  afar  neat  and  given  up  to  peace,  but  Dick 
knew  that  it  had  been  stirred  deeply  by  the  visit  of 
his  comrades  and  himself. 

"It  seems,"  he  said,  "that  the  war  would  pass  by 
these  little  mountain  nests." 

"But  it  don't,"  said  Red  Blaze.  "War,  I  guess,  is 
like  a  mad  an'  kickin'  mule,  hoofs  lashin'  out  every- 
whar,  an'  you  can't  tell  what  they're  goin'  to  hit. 
Boys,  we're  makin'  good  time.  That  wind  on  our 
backs  fairly  lifts  us  up  the  mountain  side." 

Petty  had  all  the  easy  familiarity  of  the  backwoods. 
He  treated  the  boy  and  man  who  rode  with  him  as 
comrades  of  at  least  a  year's  standing,  and  they  felt 

77 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

in  return  that  he  was  one  of  them,  a  man  to  be  trusted. 
They  retained  all  the  buoyancy  which  the  receipt  of 
the  dispatch  had  given  them,  and  Dick,  his  heart  beat- 
ing high,  scarcely  felt  the  wind  and  cold. 

"In  another  quarter  of  an  hour  we'll  be  at  the  top," 
said  Petty.  Then  he  added  after  a  moment's  pause: 
"If  I'm  not  mistook,  we'll  have  company.  See  that 
path,  leadin'  out  of  the  west,  an'  runnin'  along  the 
slope.  It  comes  into  the  main  road,  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards  further  on,  an'  I  think  I  can  see  the  top 
of  a  horseman's  head  ridin'  in  it  What  do  you  say, 
sergeant?" 

"I  say  that  you  are  right,  Red  Blaze.  I  plainly  see 
the  head  of  a  big  man,  wearing  a  fur  cap,  an'  there  are 
others  behind  him,  ridin'  in  single  file.  What's  your 
opinion,  Mr.  Mason?" 

"The  same  as  yours  and  Red  Blaze's.  I,  too,  can 
see  the  big  man  with  the  fur  cap  on  his  head  and  at 
least  a  dozen  following  behind.  Do  you  think  it 
likely,  Red  Blaze,  that  they'll  reach  the  main  road 
before  we  pass  the  mouth  of  the  path?" 

A  sudden  thought  had  leaped  up  in  Dick's  mind  and 
it  set  his  pulses  to  beating  hard.  He  remembered 
some  earlier  words  of  Red  Blaze's. 

"We'll  go  by  before  they  reach  the  main  road," 
replied  Red  Blaze,  "unless  they  make  their  hosses 
travel  a  lot  faster  than  they're  travelin'  now." 

"Then  suppose  we  whip  up  a  little,"  said  Dick. 

Both  Red  Blaze  and  the  sergeant  gave  him  search- 
ing glances. 

"Do  you  mean "  began  Whitley. 

78 


THE    FIGHT    IN    THE    PASS 

"Yes,  I  mean  it.  I  know  it.  The  man  in  front 
wearing  the  fur  cap  is  Bill  Skelly.  He  and  his  men 
made  an  attack  upon  the  home  of  my  uncle,  Colonel 
Kenton,  who  is  a  Southern  leader  in  Kentucky.  He 
and  his  band  were  Northerners  there,  but  they  will  be 
Southerners  here,  if  it  suits  their  purpose." 

"An*  it  will  shorely  suit  their  purpose  to  be  South- 
erners now,"  said  Red  Blaze.  "We  three  are  ridin' 
mighty  good  hoss  flesh.  Me  an'  the  sergeant  have 
good  rifles  an'  pistols,  you  have  good  pistols,  an'  we 
all  have  good,  big  overcoats.  This  is  a  lonely  moun- 
tain side  with  war  flyin'  all  about  us.  Easy's  the  place 
an'  easy's  the  deed.  That  is  if  we'd  let  'em,  which 
we  ain't  goin'  to  do." 

"Not  by  a  long  shot,"  said  Sergeant  Whitley,  rest- 
ing his  rifle  across  the  pommel  of  his  saddle.  "They've 
got  to  follow  straight  behind.  The  ground  is  too 
rough  for  them  to  ride  around  an'  flank  us." 

Dick  said  nothing,  but  his  gauntleted  hand  moved 
down  to  the  butt  of  one  of  his  pistols.  His  heart 
throbbed,  but  he  preserved  the  appearance  of  coolness. 
He  was  fast  becoming  inured  to  danger.  Owing  to 
the  slope  they  could  not  increase  the  speed  of  their 
horses  greatly,  but  they  were  beyond  the  mouth  of 
the  path  before  they  were  seen  by  Skelly  and  his  band. 
Then  the  big  mountaineer  uttered  a  great  shout  and 
began  to  wave  his  hand  at  them. 

"The  road  curves  here  a  little  among  the  rocks," 
said  the  sergeant,  who  unconsciously  took  command. 
"Suppose  we  stop,  sheltered  by  the  curve,  and  ask 
them  what  they  want." 

79 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"The  very  thing  to  do,"  said  Dick. 

"Sass  'em,  sergeant!    Sass  'em!"  said  Red  Blaze. 

They  drew  their  horses  back  partially  in  the  shadow 
of  the  rocky  curve,  but  the  sergeant  was  a  little  fur- 
ther forward  than  the  others.  Dick  saw  Skelly  and 
a  score  of  men  emerge  into  the  road  and  come  rapidly 
toward  them.  They  were  a  wild-looking  crew, 
mounted  on  tough  mountain  ponies,  all  of  them  carry- 
ing loot,  and  all  armed  heavily. 

The  sergeant  threw  up  his  rifle,  and  with  a  steady 
hand  aimed  straight  at  Skelly's  heart. 

"Halt!"  he  cried  sharply,  "and  tell  me  who  you 
are!" 

The  whole  crew  seemed  to  reel  back  except  Skelly, 
who,  though  stopping  his  horse,  remained  in  the  cen- 
ter of  the  road. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  cried.  "We're  peaceful 
travelers.  What  business  is  it  of  yours  who  we  are  ?" 

"Judgin'  by  your  looks  you're  not  peaceful  travelers 
at  all.  Besides  these  ain't  peaceful  times  an'  we  take 
the  right  to  demand  who  you  are.  If  you  come  on 
another  foot,  I  shoot." 

The  sergeant's  tones  were  sharp  with  resolve. 

"Your  name!"  he  continued. 

"Ramsdell,  David  Ramsdell,"  replied  the  leader  of 
the  band. 

"That's  a  lie,"  said  Sergeant  Whitley.  "Your  name 
is  Bill  Skelly,  an'  you're  a  mountaineer  from  Eastern 
Kentucky,  claimin'  to  belong  first  to  one  side  and  then 
to  the  other  as  suits  you." 

"Who  says  so?"  exclaimed  Skelly  defiantly. 

80 


THE   FIGHT   IN   THE    PASS 

The  sergeant  beckoned  Dick,  who  rode  forward  a 
little. 

"I  do,"  said  the  boy  in  a  loud,  clear  voice.  "My 
name  is  Dick  Mason,  and  I  live  at  Pendleton  in  Ken- 
tucky. I  saw  you  more  than  once  before  the  war, 
and  I  know  that  you  tried  to  burn  down  the  house 
of  Colonel  Kenton  there,  and  kill  him  and  his  friends. 
I'm  on  the  other  side,  but  I'm  not  for  such  things  as 
that." 

Skelly  distinctly  saw  Dick  sitting  on  his  horse  in 
the  pass,  and  he  knew  him  well.  Rage  tore  at  his 
heart.  Although  on  "the  other  side"  this  boy,  too, 
was  a  lowlander  and  in  a  way  a  member  of  that  vile 
Kenton  brood.  He  hated  him,  too,  because  he  be- 
longed to  those  who  had  more  of  prosperity  and 
education  than  himself.  But  Skelly  was  a  man  of 
resource  and  not  a  coward. 

"You're  right,"  he  cried,  "I'm  Bill  Skelly,  an'  we 
want  your  horses  an'  arms.  We  need  'em  in  our 
business.  Now,  just  hop  down  an'  deliver.  We're 
twenty  to  three." 

"You  come  forward  at  your  own  risk!"  cried  the 
sergeant,  and  Skelly,  despite  the  numbers  at  his  back, 
wavered.  He  saw  that  the  man  who  held  the  rifle 
aimed  at  his  heart  had  nerves  of  steel,  and  he  did  not 
dare  advance  knowing  that  he  would  be  shot  at  once 
from  the  saddle.  A  victory  won  by  Skelly's  men  with 
Skelly  dead  was  no  victory  at  all  to  Skelly. 

The  guerilla  reined  back  his  horse,  and  his  men 
retreated  with  him.  But  the  three  knew  well  that  it 
was  no  withdrawal.  The  mountaineers  rode  among 

81 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

some  scrub  that  grew  between  the  road  and  the  cliffs, 
and  Whitley  exclaimed  to  his  two  comrades: 

"Come  boys,  we  must  ride  for  it!  It's  our  busi- 
ness to  get  back  with  the  dispatches  to  Colonel  New- 
comb  as  soon  as  possible,  an'  not  let  ourselves  be  de- 
layed by  this  gang." 

"That  is  certainly  true,"  said  Dick.  "Lead  on,  Mr. 
Petty,  and  we'll  cross  the  mountain  as  fast  as  we  can. " 

Red  Blaze  started  at  once  in  a  gallop,  and  Dick 
and  the  sergeant  followed  swiftly  after.  But  Ser- 
geant Whitley  held  his  cocked  rifle  in  hand  and  he 
cast  many  backward  glances.  A  great  shout  came 
from  Skelly  and  his  band  when  they  saw  the  three 
take  to  flight,  and  the  sergeant's  face  grew  grimmer 
as  the  sound  reached  his  ears. 

"Keep  right  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  boys,"  he 
said.  "We  can't  afford  to  have  our  horses  slip.  I'll 
hang  back  just  a  little  and  send  in  a  bullet  if  they 
come  too  near.  This  rifle  of  mine  carries  pretty  far, 
farther,  I  expect,  than  any  of  theirs." 

"I'm  somethin'  on  the  shoot  myself,"  said  Red 
Blaze.  "I  love  peace,  but  it  hurts  my  feelin's  if  any- 
body shoots  at  me.  Them  fellers  are  likely  to  do  it, 
an'  me  havin'  a  rifle  in  my  hands  I  won't  be  able  to 
stop  the  temptation  to  fire  back." 

As  he  spoke  the  raiders  fired.  There  was  a  crack- 
ling of  rifles,  little  curls  of  blue  smoke  rose  in  the 
pass,  and  bullets  struck  on  the  frozen  earth,  while 
two  made  the  snow  fly  from  bushes  by  the  side  of  the 
road.  The  sergeant  raised  his  own  rifle,  longer  of 
barrel  than  the  average  army  weapon,  and  pulled  the 

82 


THE    FIGHT   IN   THE    PASS 

trigger.  He  had  aimed  at  Skelly,  but  the  leader, 
swerved,  and  a  man  behind  him  rolled  off  his  horse. 
The  others,  although  slowing  their  speed  a  little,  in 
order  to  be  out  of  the  range  of  that  deadly  rifle,  con- 
tinued to  come. 

The  pursuit  at  first  seemed  futile  to  Dick,  because 
they  would  soon  descend  into  Townsville's  valley,  and 
the  raiders  could  not  follow  them  into  the  midst  of 
an  entire  regiment.  But  presently  he  saw  their  plan. 
The  pass  now  widened  out  with  a  few  hundred  yards 
of  level  space  on  either  side  of  the  road  thickly  cov- 
ered with  forest.  The  branches  of  the  trees  were 
bare,  but  the  undergrowth  was  so  dense  that  horsemen 
could  be  hidden  in  it.  Bands  of  the  raiders  darted 
into  the  woods  both  to  right  and  left,  and  he  knew 
that  advancing  on  a  straight  line  one  or  the  other  of 
the  parties  expected  to  catch  the  fugitives  who  must 
follow  the  curves  of  the  road. 

The  advantage  of  the  pursuit  was  soon  shown  as 
a  shot  from  the  right  whistled  by  them.  Red  Blaze, 
quick  as  lightning,  fired  at  the  flash  of  the  rifle. 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  hit  him  or  not,"  he  said, 
judicially,  "but  the  chances  are  pow'ful  good  that  I 
did.  Still  it  looks  as  if  they  meant  to  hang  on  an' 
likely  we  kin  soon  expect  shots  from  the  other  side, 
too.  Then  if  they  know  the  country  as  well  as  they 
'pear  to  do  they'll  have  us  clamped  in  a  vise." 

As  he  spoke  his  eyes  twinkled  cheerfully  out  of  his 
flaming  countenance. 

"You  certainly  seem  to  take  it  easy,"  said  Dick. 

"I  take  it  easy,  'cause  the  jaws  of  that  vise  ain't 

83 


goin'  to  clamp  down.  Bein'  somewhat  interested  in  a 
run  for  your  life  you  haven't  noticed  how  dark  it's 
gettin'  up  here  on  the  heights  an'  how  hard  it's 
snowin*.  It's  comin'  down  a  lot  thicker  than  it  was 
when  we  crossed  the  first  time." 

It  was  true.  Dick  noticed  now  that  the  snow  was 
pouring  down,  and  that  all  the  peaks  and  ridges  were 
lost  in  the  white  whirlwind. 

"I  told  you  that  I  had  been  a  traveler,"  said  Red 
Blaze.  "I've  been  as  far  as  fifty  miles  from  Towns- 
ville,  and  I  know  all  the  country  in  every  direction, 
twenty  miles  from  it,  inch  by  inch.  Inside  five  min- 
utes the  snowstorm  will  be  on  us  full  blast,  an'  we 
won't  be  able  to  see  more'n  twenty  yards  away.  An' 
that  crowd  that's  follerin'  won't  be  able  to  see  either. 
An'  me  knowin'  the  ground  inch  by  inch  I'll  take  you 
straight  back  to  your  regiment  while  they'll  get  lost  in 
the  storm." 

There  was  room  now  in  the  road  for  the  three  to 
ride  abreast,  and  they  kept  close  together.  They 
heard  once  a  shout  behind  them  and  saw  the  flash 
of  a  firearm  in  the  white  hurricane,  but  no  bullet 
struck  them,  and  they  kept  steadily  on  their  course, 
Red  Blaze  directing  with  the  sure  instinct  that  comes 
of  long  use  and  habit. 

Heavier  and  heavier  grew  the  snow.  There  was 
but  little  wind  now,  and  it  came  straight  down.  It 
seemed  to  Dick  that  the  whole  earth  was  blotted  out 
by  the  white  fall.  He  and  the  sergeant  resigned 
themselves  completely  to  the  guidance  of  Red  Blaze, 
who  never  veered  an  inch  from  the  right  path. 

84 


THE    FIGHT   IN   THE    PASS 

"If  I  didn't  know  the  way  my  boss  would,"  he  said. 
"I'd  just  give  him  his  head  an'  he'd  take  us  straight 
to  his  warm  stable  in  Townsville,  an'  the  two  bundles 
of  oats  that  I  mean  to  give  him.  I  reckon  it  was 
pretty  smart  of  me,  wasn't  it,  to  order  a  snowstorm 
an'  have  it  come  just  when  it  was  needed." 

Again  the  cheerful  eyes  twinkled  in  the  flaming 
face. 

"You're  certainly  a  winner,"  said  Dick,  "and  you 
win  for  us  all." 

The  snow  was  now  so  deep  in  the  pass  that  they 
could  not  proceed  at  great  speed,  but  they  did  the  best 
they  could,  and,  as  Red  Blaze  said,  their  best,  although 
it  might  be  somewhat  slow,  was  certainly  better  than 
that  of  Skelly  and  his  men.  Dick  believed  in  fact  that 
the  raiders  had  been  compelled  to  abandon  the  pursuit. 

When  they  reached  a  lower  level,  where  the  snow 
was  far  less  dense,  they  stopped  and  listened.  The 
sergeant's  ears  had  been  trained  to  uncommon  keen- 
ness by  his  life  on  the  plains,  and  he  could  hear  noth- 
ing but  the  sigh  of  the  falling  snow.  Nor  could  Petty, 
who  had  fine  ears  himself. 

They  descended  still  further,  and  made  another 
stop.  It  was  snowing  here  also,  but  it  was  merely  an 
ordinary  fall,  and  they  could  get  a  long  view  back  up 
the  pass.  They  saw  nothing  there  but  earth  and  trees 
covered  with  snow.  Looking  in  the  other  direction 
they  saw  the  sunshine  gleaming  for  a  moment  on  a 
roof  in  Townsville. 

"We're  all  safe  now,"  said  Red  Blaze,  "an*  we'll 
be  with  the  soldiers  in  another  half  hour.  But  just 

85 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

you  two  remember  that  mebbe  the  next  time  I  couldn't 
call  up  a  snowstorm  to  cover  us  an'  save  our  lives." 

"Once  is  enough,"  said  Dick,  "and,  Mr.  Petty,  Ser- 
geant Whitley  and  I  want  to  thank  you." 

Mittened  hands  met  buckskinned  ones  in  the  strong 
grasp  of  friendship,  and  now,  as  they  rode  on,  the 
whole  village  emerged  into  sight.  There  was  the  long 
train  standing  on  the  track,  the  smoke  rising  in  spires 
from  the  neat  houses,  and  then  the  figures  of  human 
beings. 

The  fall  of  snow  was  light  in  the  valley  and  as  soon 
as  they  reached  the  levels  the  three  proceeded  at  a 
gallop.  Dick  saw  Colonel  Newcomb  standing  by  the 
train,  and  springing  from  his  horse  he  handed  him 
the  dispatch.  The  colonel  opened  it,  and  as  he  read 
Dick  saw  the  glow  appear  upon  his  face. 

"Fire  up!"  he  said  to  Canby,  the  engineer,  who 
stood  near.  "We  start  at  once!" 

The  troops  who  were  ready  and  waiting  were  hur- 
ried into  the  coaches,  and  the  engine  whistled  for  de- 
parture. 


CHAPTER   V 

THE  SINGER  OF  THE  HILLS 

AS  the  engine  whistled  for  the  last  time  Dick 
sprang  upon  a  car-step,  one  hand  holding  to 
the  rail  while  with  the  other  he  returned  the 
powerful  grip  of  Red  Blaze,  who  with  his  own  un- 
confined  hand  grasped  the  bridles  of  the  three  horses, 
which  had  served  them  so  well.  Petty  had  received 
a  reward  thrust  upon  him  by  Colonel  Newcomb,  but 
Dick  knew  that  the  mountaineer's  chief  recompense 
was  the  success  achieved  in  the  perilous  task  chosen 
for  him. 

"Good-bye,  Mr.  Mason,"  said  Red  Blaze,  "I'm 
proud  to  have  knowed  you  an'  the  sergeant,  an'  to 
have  been  your  comrade  in  a  work  for  the  Union." 

"Without  you  we  should  have  failed." 

"It  jest  happened  that  I  knowed  the  way.  It 
seems  to  me  that  there's  a  heap,  a  tremenjeous  heap, 
in  knowin'  the  way.  It  gives  you  an  awful  advantage. 
Now  you  an'  your  regiment  are  goin'  down  thar  in 
them  Kentucky  mountains.  They're  mighty  wild, 
winter's  here  an*  the  marchin'  will  be  about  as  bad 
as  it  could  be.  Them's  mostly  Pennsylvania  men  with 
you,  an'  they  don't  know  a  thing  'bout  that  thar  re- 

87 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

gion.  Like  as  not  you'll  be  walkin'  right  straight  into 
an  ambush,  an'  that'll  be  the  end  of  you  an*  them 
Pennsylvanians." 

"You're  a  cheerful  prophet,  Red  Blaze." 

"I  meant  if  you  didn't  take  care  of  yourselves  an' 
keep  a  good  lookout,  which  I  know,  of  course,  that 
you're  goin'  to  do.  I  was  jest  statin'  the  other  side 
of  the  proposition,  tellin'  what  would  happen  to  keer- 
less  people,  but  Colonel  Newcomb  an'  Major  Hert- 
ford ain't  keerless  people.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Mason. 
Mebbe  I'll  see  you  ag'in  before  this  war  is  over." 

"Good-bye,  Red  Blaze.     I  truly  hope  so." 

The  train  was  moving  now  and  with  a  last  powerful 
grasp  of  a  friendly  hand  Dick  went  into  the  coach. 
It  was  the  first  in  the  train.  Colonel  Newcomb  and 
Major  Hertford  sat  near  the  head  of  it,  and  Warner 
was  just  sitting  down  not  far  behind  them.  Dick  took 
the  other  half  of  the  seat  with  the  young  Vermonter, 
who  said,  speaking  in  a  whimsical  tone : 

"You  fill  me  with  envy,  Dick.  Why  wasn't  it  my 
luck  to  go  with  you,  Sergeant  Whitley,  and  the  man 
they  call  Red  Blaze  on  that  errand  and  help  bring 
back  with  you  the  message  of  President  Lincoln? 
But  I  heard  what  our  red  friend  said  to  you  at  the 
car-step.  There's  a  powerful  lot  in  knowing  the  way, 
knowing  where  you're  going,  and  what's  along  every 
inch  of  the  road.  My  arithmetic  tells  me  that  it  is 
often  fifty  per  cent  of  marching  and  fighting." 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  said  Dick. 

A  little  later  he  was  sound  asleep  in  his  seat,  and  at 
the  command  of  Colonel  Newcomb  he  was  not  dis- 

88 


THE    SINGER    OF    THE    HILLS 

turbed.  His  had  been  a  task,  taxing  to  the  utmost 
both  body  and  mind,  and,  despite  his  youth  and 
strength,  it  would  take  nature  some  time  to  replace 
what  had  been  worn  away. 

He  slept  on  while  the  boys  in  the  train  talked  and 
laughed.  Stern  discipline  was  not  yet  enforced  in 
either  army,  nor  did  Colonel  Newcomb  consider  it 
necessary  here.  These  lads,  so  lately  from  the  schools 
and  farms,  had  won  a  victory  and  they  had  received 
the  thanks  of  the  President.  They  had  a  right  to  talk 
about  it  among  themselves  and  a  little  vocal  enthusi- 
asm now  might  build  up  courage  and  spirit  for  a 
greater  crisis  later. 

The  colonel,  moreover,  gave  glances  of  approval 
and  sympathy  to  his  gallant  young  aide,  who  in  the 
seat  next  to  the  window  with  his  head  against  the 
wall  slept  so  soundly.  All  the  afternoon  Dick  slept 
on,  his  breathing  regular  and  steady.  The  train 
rattled  and  rumbled  through  the  high  mountains,  and 
on  the  upper  levels  the  snow  was  falling  fast. 

Darkness  came,  and  supper  was  served  to  the  troops, 
but  at  the  colonel's  command  Dick  was  not  awak- 
ened. Nature  had  not  yet  finished  her  task  of  repair- 
ing. There  was  worn  tissue  still  to  be  replaced,  and 
the  nerves  had  not  yet  recovered  their  full  steadiness. 

So  Dick  slept  on,  while  the  night  deepened  and  the 
snow  continued  to  drive  against  the  window  panes. 
Nor  did  he  awake  until  morning,  when  the  train 
stopped  at  a  tiny  station  in  the  hills.  There  was  no 
snow  here,  but  the  sun,  just  rising,  threw  no  heat,  and 
icicles  were  hanging  from  every  cliff.  Dispatches 

89 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

were  waiting  for  Colonel  Newcomb,  and  after  break- 
fast he  announced  to  his  staff: 

"I  have  orders  from  Washington  to  divide  my  regi- 
ment The  Southern  forces  are  operating  at  three 
points  in  Kentucky.  They  are  gathering  at  Columbus 
on  the  Mississippi,  at  Bowling  Green  in  the  south,  and 
here  in  the  mountains  there  is  a  strong  division  under 
an  officer  named  Zollicoffer.  Scattered  forces  of  our 
men,  the  principal  one  led  by  a  Virginian  named 
Thomas,  are  endeavoring  to  deal  with  Zollicoffer.  The 
Secretary  of  War  regrets  the  division  of  the  regiment, 
but  he  thinks  it  necessary,  as  all  our  detached  forces 
must  be  strengthened.  I  go  on  with  the  main  body 
of  the  regiment  to  join  Grant,  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Ohio.  You,  Major  Hertford,  will  take  three  com- 
panies and  march  south  in  search  of  Thomas,  but  be 
careful  that  you  are  not  snapped  up  by  the  rebels  on 
the  way.  And  if  you  can  get  volunteers  and  join 
Thomas  with  your  force  increased  threefold,  so  much 
the  better." 

"I  shall  try  my  best,  sir,"  said  Major  Hertford, 
"and  thank  you  for  this  honor." 

Dick  and  Warner  stood  by  without  a  word,  but  Dick 
cast  an  appealing  look  at  Colonel  Newcomb. 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  the  Colonel,  who  caught  the 
glance.  "This  is  your  state,  and  you  wish  to  go  with 
Major  Hertford.  You  are  to  do  so.  So  is  your 
friend,  Lieutenant  Warner,  and,  Major  Hertford,  I 
also  lend  to  you  Sergeant  Whitley,  who  is  a  man  of 
much  experience  and  who  has  already  proved  himself 
to  be  of  great  value." 

90 


THE    SINGER    OF    THE    HILLS 

The  three  saluted  and  were  grateful.  They  longed 
for  action,  which  they  believed  would  come  more 
quickly  with  Major  Hertford's  column.  A  little  later, 
when  military  form  permitted  it,  the  two  boys  thanked 
Colonel  Newcomb  in  words. 

"Maybe  you  won't  thank  me  a  few  days  from 
now,"  said  the  colonel  a  little  grimly,  "but  I  am 
hopeful  that  our  plans  here  in  Eastern  Kentucky  will 
prove  successful,  and  that  before  long  you  will  be 
able  to  join  the  great  forces  in  the  western  part  of  the 
state.  You  are  both  good  boys  and  now,  good-bye." 

The  preparations  for  the  mountain  column,  as  Dick 
and  Warner  soon  called  it,  had  been  completed.  They 
were  on  foot,  but  they  were  well  armed,  well  clothed, 
and  they  had  supplies  loaded  in  several  wagons,  pur- 
chased hastily  in  the  village.  A  dozen  of  the  strong 
mountaineers  volunteered  to  be  drivers  and  guides, 
and  the  major  was  glad  to  have  them.  Later,  several 
horses  were  secured  for  the  officers,  but,  meanwhile, 
the  train  was  ready  to  depart. 

Colonel  Newcomb  waved  them  farewell,  the  faith- 
ful and  valiant  Canby  opened  the  throttle,  and  the 
train  steamed  away.  The  men  in  the  little  column, 
although  eager  for  their  new  task,  watched  its  de- 
parture with  a  certain  sadness  at  parting  with  their 
comrades.  The  train  became  smaller  and  smaller,  then 
it  was  only  a  spiral  of  smoke,  and  that,  too,  soon  died 
on  the  clear  western  horizon. 

"And  now  to  find  Thomas!"  said  Major  Hertford, 
who  retained  Dick  and  Warner  on  his  staff,  practi- 
cally its  only  members,  in  fact.  "It  looks  odd  to  hunt 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

through  the  mountains  for  a  general  and  his  army, 
but  we've  got  it  to  do,  and  we'll  do  it." 

The  horses  for  the  officers  were  obtained  at  the 
suggestion  of  Sergeant  Whitley,  and  the  little  column 
turned  southward  through  the  wintry  forest.  Dick 
and  Warner  were  riding  strong  mountain  ponies,  but 
at  times,  and  in  order  to  show  that  they  considered 
themselves  no  better  than  the  others,  they  dismounted 
and  walked  over  the  frozen  ground.  The  greatest  tasks 
were  with  the  wagons  containing  the  ammunition  and 
supplies.  The  mountain  roads  were  little  more  than 
trails,  sometimes  half  blocked  with  ice  or  snow  and 
then  again  deep  in  mud.  The  winter  was  severe. 
Storms  of  rain,  hail,  sleet  and  snow  poured  upon  them, 
but,  fortunately,  they  were  marching  through  con- 
tinuous forests,  and  the  skilled  mountaineers,  under 
any  circumstances,  knew  how  to  build  fires,  by  the 
side  of  which  they  could  dry  themselves,  and  sleep 
warmly  at  night. 

They  also  heard  much  gossip  as  they  advanced  to 
meet  General  Thomas,  who  had  been  sent  from  Louis- 
ville to  command  the  Northern  troops  in  the  Ken- 
tucky mountains.  Thomas  was  a  Virginian,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  old  regular  army,  a  valiant,  able,  and  cau- 
tious man,  who  chose  to  abide  by  the  Union.  Many 
other  Virginians,  some  destined  to  be  as  famous  as 
he,  and  a  few  more  so,  wondered  why  he  had  not 
gone  with  his  seceding  state,  and  criticised  him  much, 
but  Thomas,  chary  of  speech,  hung  to  his  belief,  and 
proved  it  by  action. 

Dick  learned,  too,  that  the  Southern  force  operating 

92 


THE   SINGER    OF    THE    HILLS 

against  Thomas,  while  actively  led  by  Zollicoffer, 
was  under  the  nominal  command  of  one  of  his  own 
Kentucky  Crittendens.  Here  he  saw  again  how  ter- 
ribly his  beloved  state  was  divided,  like  other  border 
states.  General  Crittenden's  father  was  a  member  of 
the  Federal  Congress  at  Washington,  and  one  of  his 
brothers  was  a  general  also,  but  on  the  other  side. 
But  he  was  to  see  such  cases  over  and  over  again,  and 
he  was  to  see  them  to  a  still  greater  and  a  wholesale 
degree,  when  the  First  Maryland  regiment  of  the 
North  and  the  First  Maryland  regiment  of  the  South, 
recruited  from  the  same  district,  should  meet  face  to 
face  upon  the  terrible  field  of  Antietam. 

But  Antietam  was  far  in  the  future,  and  Dick's 
mind  turned  from  the  cases  of  brother  against  brother 
to  the  problems  of  the  icy  wilderness  through  which 
they  were  moving,  in  a  more  or  less  uncertain  man- 
ner. Sometimes  they  were  sent  on  false  trails,  but 
their  loyal  mountaineers  brought  them  back  again. 
They  also  found  volunteers,  and  Major  Hertford's  lit- 
tle force  swelled  from  three  hundred  to  six  hundred. 
In  the  main,  the  mountaineers  were  sympathetic, 
partly  through  devotion  to  the  Union,  and  partly 
through  jealousy  of  the  more  prosperous  low- 
landers. 

One  day  Major  Hertford  sent  Dick,  Warner,  and 
Sergeant  Whitley,  ahead  to  scout.  He  had  recognized 
the  ability  of  the  two  lads,  and  also  their  great  friend- 
ship for  Sergeant  Whitley.  It  seemed  fitting  to  him 
that  the  three  should  be  nearly  always  together,  and 
he  watched  them  with  confidence,  as  they  rode  ahead 

93 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

on  the  icy  mountain  trail  and  then  disappeared  from 
sight. 

Dick  and  his  friends  had  learned,  at  mountain  cabins 
which  they  had  passed,  that  the  country  opened  out 
further  on  into  a  fine  little  valley,  and  when  they 
reached  the  crest  of  a  hill  somewhat  higher  than  the 
others,  they  verified  the  truth  of  the  statement  Be- 
fore them  lay  the  coziest  nook  they  had  yet  seen  in 
the  mountains,  and  in  the  center  of  it  rose  a  warm 
curl  of  smoke  from  the  chimney  of  a  house,  much 
superior  to  that  of  the  average  mountaineer.  The 
meadows  and  corn  lands  on  either  side  of  a  noble 
creek  were  enclosed  in  good  fences.  Everything  was 
trim  and  neat. 

The  three  rode  down  the  slope  toward  the  house,  but 
halfway  to  the  bottom  they  reined  in  their  ponies 
and  listened.  Some  one  was  singing.  On  the  thin 
wintry  air  a  deep  mellow  voice  rose  and  they  dis- 
tinctly heard  the  words : 

Soft  o'er  the   fountain,   ling'ring    falls    the    southern 

moon, 

Far  o'er  the  mountain  breaks  the  day  too  soon. 
In  thy  dark  eyes'  splendor,  where  the  warm  light 

loves  to  dwell, 

Weary  looks  yet  tender,  speak  their  fond  farewell. 
'Nita,  Juanita !   Ask  thy  soul  if  we  should  part, 
'Nita,  Juanita !  Lean  thou  on  my  heart. 

It  was  a  wonderful  voice  that  they  heard,  <3e"ep, 
full,  and  mellow,  all  the  more  wonderful  because  they 
heard  it  there  in  those  lone  mountains.  The  ridges 
took  up  the  echo,  and  gave  it  back  in  tones  softened 
but  exquisitely  haunting. 

94 


THE    SINGER    OF    THE    HILLS 

The  three  paused  and  looked  at  one  another.  They 
could  not  see  the  singer.  He  was  hidden  from  them 
by  the  dips  and  swells  of  the  valley,  but  they  felt  that 
here  was  no  common  man.  No  common  mind,  or  at 
least  no  common  heart,  could  infuse  such  feeling  into 
music.  As  they  listened  the  remainder  of  the  pathetic 
old  air  rose  and  swelled  through  the  ridges : 

When  in  thy  dreaming,  moons  like  these  shall  shine 

again, 

And  daylight  beaming  prove  thy  dreams  are  vain, 
Wilt  thou  not,  relenting,  for  thy  absent  lover  sigh? 
In  thy  heart  consenting  to  a  prayer  gone  by! 
'Nita,  Juanita !  let  me  linger  by  thy  side ! 
'Nita,  Juanita !  be  thou  my  own  fair  bride. 

"I'm  curious  to  see  that  singer,"  said  Warner.  "I 
heard  grand  opera  once  in  Boston,  just  before  I  started 
to  the  war,  but  I  never  heard  anything  that  sounds 
finer  than  this.  Maybe  time  and  place  help  to  the 
extent  of  fifty  per  cent,  but,  at  any  rate,  the  effect  is 
just  the  same. 

"Come  on,"  said  Dick,  "and  we'll  soon  find  our 
singer,  whoever  he  is." 

The  three  rode  at  a  rapid  pace  until  they  reached 
the  valley.  There  they  drew  rein,  as  they  saw  near 
them  a  tall  man,  apparently  about  forty  years  of  age, 
mending  a  fence,  helped  by  a  boy  of  heavy  build  and 
powerful  arms.  The  man  glanced  up,  saw  the  blue 
uniforms  worn  by  the  three  horsemen,  and  went 
peacefully  on  with  his  fence-mending.  He  also  con- 
tinued to  sing,  throwing  his  soul  into  the  song,  and 
both  work  and  song  proceeded  as  if  no  one  was  near. 

95 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

He  lifted  the  rails  into  place  with  mighty  arms,  but 
never  ceased  to  sing.  The  boy  who  helped  him  seemed 
almost  his  equal  in  strength,  but  he  neither  sang  nor 
spoke.  Yet  he  smiled  most  of  the  time,  showing  rows 
of  exceedingly  strong,  white  teeth. 

"They  seem  to  me  to  be  of  rather  superior  type,'* 
said  Dick.  "Maybe  we  can  get  useful  information 
from  them." 

"I  judge  that  the  singer  will  talk  about  almost  every- 
thing except  what  we  want  to  know,"  said  the  shrewd 
and  experienced  sergeant,  "but  we  can  certainly  do 
no  harm  by  speaking  to  him.  Of  course  they  have 
seen  us.  No  doubt  they  saw  us  before  we  saw  them." 

The  three  rode  forward,  saluted  politely  and  the 
fence-menders,  stopping  their  work,  saluted  in  the 
same  polite  fashion.  Then  they  stood  expectant. 

"We  belong  to  a  detachment  which  is  marching 
southward  to  join  the  Union  army  under  General 
,Thomas,"  said  Dick.  "Perhaps  you  could  tell  us  the 
best  road." 

"I  might  an'  ag'in  I  mightn't,  stranger.  If  you 
don't  talk  much  you  never  have  much  to  take  back. 
If  I  knew  where  that  army  is  it  would  be  easy  for  me 
to  tell  you,  but  if  I  didn't  know  I  couldn't.  Now,  the 
question  is,  do  I  know  or  don't  I  know  ?  Do  you  think 
you  can  decide  it  for  me  stranger?" 

It  was  impossible  for  Dick  or  the  sergeant  to  take 
offense.  The  man's  gaze  was  perfectly  frank  and  open 
and  his  eyes  twinkled  as  he  spoke.  The  boy  with  him 
smiled  widely,  showing  both  rows  of  his  powerful 
white  teeth. 

96 


THE    SINGER    OF    THE    HILLS 

"We  can't  decide  it  until  we  know  you  better,"  said 
Dick  in  a  light  tone. 

"I'm  willin'  to  tell  you  who  I  am.  My  name  is  Sam 
Jarvis,  an'  this  lunkhead  here  is  my  nephew,  Ike  Sim- 
mons, the  son  of  my  sister,  who  keeps  my  house.  Now 
I  want  to  tell  you,  young  stranger,  that  since  this  war 
began  and  the  Yankees  and  the  Johnnies  have  taken 
a  notion  to  shoot  up  one  another,  people  who  would 
never  have  thought  of  doin'  it  before,  have  come 
wanderin'  into  these  mountains.  But  you  can  get  a 
hint  about  'em  sometimes.  Young  man,  do  you  want 
me  to  tell  you  your  name?" 

"Tell  me  my  name!"  responded  Dick  in  astonish- 
ment. "Of  course  you  can't  do  it!  You  never  saw  or 
heard  of  me  before." 

"Mebbe  no,"  replied  Jarvis,  with  calm  confidence, 
"but  all  the  same  your  name  is  Dick  Mason,  and  you 
come  from  a  town  in  Kentucky  called  Pendleton. 
You've  been  serving  with  the  Yanks  in  the  East,  an' 
you've  a  cousin,  named  Harry  Kenton,  who's  been 
servin'  there  also,  but  with  the  Johnnies.  Now,  am 
I  a  good  guesser  or  am  I  just  a  plum'  ignorant 
fool?" 

Dick  stared  at  him  in  deepening  amazement. 

"You  do  more  than  guess,"  he  replied.  "You  know. 
Everything  that  you  said  is  true." 

"Tell  me  this,"  said  Jarvis.  "Was  that  cousin  of 
yours,  Harry  Kenton,  killed  in  the  big  battle  at  Bull 
Run?  I've  been  tremenjeously  anxious  about  him 
ever  since  I  heard  of  that  terrible  fight" 

"He  was  not.  I  have  not  seen  him  since,  but  I  have 

97 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

definite  news  now  that  he  passed  safely  through  the 
battle." 

Sam  Jarvis  and  his  nephew  Ike  breathed  deep  sighs 
of  relief. 

"I'm  mighty  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Jarvis,  "I  shorely 
liked  that  boy,  Harry,  an'  I  think  I'll  like  you  about 
as  well.  It  don't  matter  to  me  that  you're  on  different 
sides,  bein'  as  I  ain't  on  any  side  at  all  myself,  nor  is 
this  lunkhead,  Ike,  my  nephew." 

"How  on  earth  did  you  know  me?" 

"'Light,  an'  come  into  the  house  an'  I'll  tell  you. 
You  an'  your  pardners  look  cold  an'  hungry.  There 
ain't  danger  of  anybody  taking  your  hosses,  'cause  you 
can  hitch  'em  right  at  the  front  door.  Besides,  I've 
got  an  old  grandmother  in  the  house,  who'd  like 
mighty  well  to  see  you,  Mr.  Mason." 

Dick  concluded  that  it  was  useless  to  ask  any  more 
questions  just  yet,  and  he,  Warner  and  the  sergeant, 
dismounting  and  leading  their  horses,  walked  toward 
the  house  with  Jarvis  and  Ike.  Jarvis,  who  seemed 
singularly  cheerful,  lifted  up  his  voice  and  sang: 

Thou  wilt  come  no  more,  gentle  Annie, 

Like  a  flower,  thy  spirit  did  depart, 

Thou  art  gone,  alas !  like  the  many 

That  have  bloomed  in  the  summer  of  my  heart. 

Shall  we  never  more  behold  thee? 

Never  hear  thy  winning  voice  again? 

When  the  spring  time  comes,  gentle  Annie? 

When  the  wild  flowers  are  scattered  o'er  the  plain? 

It  seemed  to  Dick  that  the  man  sang  spontaneously, 
and  the  deep,  mellow  voice  always  came  back  in  faint 
and  dying  echoes  that  moved  him  in  a  singular  man- 

98 


THE    SINGER    OF    THE    HILLS 

ner.  All  at  once  the  war  with  its  passions  and  carnage 
floated  away.  Here  was  a  little  valley  fenced  in  from 
the  battle-world  in  which  he  had  been  living.  He 
breathed  deeply  and  as  the  eyes  of  Jarvis  caught  his 
a  sympathetic  glance  passed  between  them. 

"Yes,"  said  Jarvis,  as  if  he  understood  completely, 
"the  war  goes  around  us.  There  is  nothing  to  fight 
about  here.  But  come  into  the  house.  This  is  my 
sister,  the  mother  of  that  lunkhead,  Ike,  and  here  is 
my  grandmother." 

He  paused  before  the  bent  figure  of  an  old,  old 
woman,  sitting  in  a  rocking  chair  beside  the  chimney, 
beside  which  a  fire  glowed  and  blazed.  Her  chin 
rested  on  one  hand,  and  she  was  staring  into  the  coals. 

"Grandmother,"  said  Jarvis  very  gently,  "the  great- 
grandson  of  the  great  Henry  Ware  that  you  used  to 
know  was  here  last  spring,  and  now  the  great-grand- 
son of  his  friend,  Paul  Cotter,  has  come,  too." 

The  withered  form  straightened  and  she  stood  up. 
Fire  came  into  the  old,  old  eyes  that  regarded  Dick  so 
intently. 

"Aye,"  she  said,  "you  speak  the  truth,  grandson.  It 
is  Paul  Cotter's  own  face.  A  gentle  man  he  was,  but 
brave,  and  the  greatest  scholar.  I  should  have  known 
that  when  Henry  Ware's  great-grandson  came  Paul 
Cotter's,  too,  would  come  soon.  I  am  proud  for  this 
house  to  have  sheltered  you  both." 

She  put  both  her  hands  on  his  shoulders,  and  stood 
up  very  straight,  her  face  close  to  his.  She  was  a  tall 
woman,  above  the  average  height  of  man,  and  her  eyes 
were  on  a  level  with  Dick's. 

99 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"It  is  true,"  she  said,  "it  is  he  over  again.  The  eyes 
are  his,  and  the  mouth  and  the  nose  are  the  same. 
This  house  is  yours  while  you  choose  to  remain,  and 
my  grandchildren  and  my  great-grandson  will  do  for 
you  whatever  you  wish." 

Dick  noticed  that  her  grammar  and  intonation  were 
perfect.  Many  of  the  Virginians  and  Marylanders 
who  emigrated  to  Kentucky  in  that  far-off  border 
time  were  people  of  cultivation  and  refinement. 

After  these  words  of  welcome  she  turned  from  him, 
sat  down  in  her  chair  and  gazed  steadily  into  the  coals. 
Everything  about  her  seemed  to  float  away.  Doubt- 
less her  thoughts  ran  on  those  dim  early  days,  when 
the  Indians  lurked  in  the  canebrake  and  only  the  great 
borderers  stood  between  the  settlers  and  sure  death. 

Dick  began  to  gather  from  the  old  woman's  words 
a  dim  idea  of  what  had  occurred.  Harry  Kenton  must 
have  passed  there,  and  as  they  went  into  the  next  room 
where  food  and  coffee  were  placed  before  them,  Jar- 
vis  explained. 

"Your  cousin,  Harry  Kenton,  came  through  here 
last  spring  on  his  way  to  Virginia,"  he  said.  "He 
came  with  me  an'  this  lunkhead,  Ike,  all  the  way 
from  Frankfort  and  mostly  up  the  Kentucky  River. 
Grandmother  was  dreaming  and  she  took  him  at  first 
for  Henry  Ware,  his  very  self.  She  saluted  him  and 
called  him  the  great  governor.  It  was  a  wonderful 
thing  to  see,  and  it  made  me  feel  just  a  little  bit  creepy 
for  a  second  or  two.  Mebbe  you  an'  your  cousin, 
Harry  Kenton,  are  Henry  Ware  an'  ^aul  Cotter,  their 
very  selves  come  back  to  earth.  It  looks  curious  that 

100 


THE    SINGER    OF    THE    HILLS 

both  of  you  should  wander  to  this  little  place  hid  deep 
in  the  mountains.  But  it's  happened  all  the  same.  I 
s'pose  you've  just  been  moved  'round  that  way  by  the 
Supreme  Power  that's  bigger  than  all  of  us,  an'  that 
shifts  us  about  to  suit  plans  made  long  ago.  But  how 
I'm  runnin'  on!  Fall  to,  friends — I  can't  call  you 
strangers,  an'  eat  an'  drink.  The  winter  air  on  the 
mountains  is  powerful  nippin'  an'  your  blood  needs 
warmin'  often." 

The  boys  and  the  sergeant  obeyed  him  literally  and 
with  energy.  Jarvis  sat  by  approvingly,  taking  an  oc- 
casional bite  or  drink  with  them.  Meanwhile  they 
gathered  valuable  information  from  him.  A  Northern 
commander  named  Garfield  had  defeated  the  Southern 
forces  under  Humphrey  Marshall  in  a  smart  little  bat- 
tle at  a  place  called  Middle  Creek.  Dick  knew  this 
Humphrey  Marshall  well.  He  lived  at  Louisville  and 
was  a  great  friend  of  his  uncle,  Colonel  Kenton.  He 
had  been  a  brilliant  and  daring  cavalry  officer  in  the 
Mexican  War,  doing  great  deeds  at  Buena  Vista,  but 
now  he  was  elderly  and  so  enormously  stout  that  he 
lacked  efficiency. 

Jarvis  added  that  after  their  defeat  at  Middle  Creek 
the  Southerners  had  gathered  their  forces  on  or  near 
the  Cumberland  River  about  Mill  Spring  and  that  they 
had  ten  thousand  men.  Thomas  with  a  strong  North- 
ern force,  coming  all  the  way  from  the  central  part  of 
the  state,  was  already  deep  in  the  mountains,  prepar- 
ing to  meet  him. 

"Remember,"  said  Jarvis,  "that  I  ain't  takin'  no 
sides  in  this  war  myself.  If  people  come  along  an' 

101 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

ask  me  to  tell  what  I  know  I  tell  it  to  'em,  be  they 
Yank  or  Reb.  Now,  I  wish  good  luck  to  you,  Mr. 
Mason,  an'  I  wish  the  same  to  your  cousin,  Mr.  Ken- 
ton." 

Dick,  Warner  and  the  sergeant  finished  the  refresh- 
ments and  rose  for  the  return  journey.  They  thanked 
Jarvis,  and  when  they  saw  that  he  would  take  no  pay, 
they  did  not  insist,  knowing  that  it  would  offend  him. 
Dick  said  good-bye  to  the  ancient  woman  and  once 
again  she  rose,  put  her  hands  on  his  shoulders  and 
looked  into  his  eyes. 

"Paul  Cotter  was  a  good  man,"  she  said,  "and  you 
who  have  his  blood  in  your  veins  are  good,  too.  I 
can  see  it  in  something  that  lies  back  in  your  eyes." 

She  said  not  another  word,  but  sat  down  in  the 
chair  and  stared  once  more  into  the  coals,  dreaming 
of  the  far  day  when  the  great  borderers  saved  her 
and  others  like  her  from  the  savages,  and  thinking 
little  of  the  mighty  war  that  raged  at  the  base  of  her 
hills. 

The  boys  and  the  sergeant  rode  fast  on  the  return 
trail.  They  knew  that  Major  Hertford  would  push 
forward  at  all  speed  to  join  Thomas,  whom  they  could 
now  locate  without  much  difficulty.  Jarvis  and  Ike 
had  resumed  their  fence-mending,  but  when  the  trees 
hid  the  valley  from  them  a  mighty,  rolling  song  came 
to  the  ears  of  Dick  Warner  and  the  sergeant: 

•  They  bore  him  away  when  the  day  had  fled, 
And  the  storm  was  rolling  high, 
And  they  laid  him  down  in  his  lonely  bed 
By  the  light  of  an  angry  sky. 

102 


THE    SINGER    OF    THE    HILLS 

The  lightning  flashed,  and  the  wild  sea  lashed 
The  shore  with  its  foaming  wave, 
And  the  thunder  passed  on  the  rushing  blast 
As  it  howled  o'er  the  rover's  grave. 

"That  man's  no  fool,"  said  Dick. 

"No,  he  ain't,"  said  the  sergeant,  with  decision, 
"nor  is  that  nephew  Ike  of  his  that  he  calls  a  lunkhead. 
Did  you  notice,  Mr.  Mason,  that  the  boy  never  spoke  a 
word  while  we  was  there?  Them  that  don't  say  any- 
thing never  have  anything  to  take  back." 

They  rode  hard  now,  and  soon  reached  Major  Hert- 
ford with  their  news.  On  the  third  day  thereafter 
they  entered  a  strong  Union  camp,  commanded  by  a 
man  named  Garfield,  the  young  officer  who  had  won 
the  victory  at  Middle  Creek. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MILL   SPRING 

GARFIELD'S  camp  was  on  a  little  group  of  hills 
in  a  very  strong  position,  and  his  men,  flushed 
with  victory,  were  eager  for  another  encounter 
with  the  enemy.     They  had  plenty  of  good  tents  to 
fend  them  from  the  winter  weather  which  had  often 
been  bitter.     Throughout  the  camp  burned  large  fires 
for  which  they  had  an  almost  unbroken  wilderness  to 
furnish  fuel.     The  whole  aspect  of  the  place  was  pleas- 
ing to  the  men  who  had  marched  far  and  hard. 

Major  Hertford  and  his  aides,  Richard  Mason  and 
George  Warner,  were  received  in  Colonel  Garfield's 
tent.  A  slim  young  man,  writing  dispatches  at  a  rude 
little  pine  table,  rose  to  receive  them.  He  did  not 
seem  to  Dick  to  be  more  than  thirty,  and  he  had  the 
thin,  scholarly  face  of  a  student.  His  manner  was 
attractive.  He  shook  hands  warmly  with  all  three  of 
them  and  said: 

"Reinforcements  are  most  welcome  indeed.  My 
own  work  here  seems  to  be  largely  done,  but  you  will 
reach  General  Thomas  in  another  day,  and  he  needs 
you.  Take  my  chair,  Major  Hertford.  To  you  two 
lads  I  can  offer  only  stumps." 

104 


MILL    SPRING 

The  tent  had  been  pitched  over  a  spot  where  three 
stumps  had  been  smoothed  off  carefully  until  they 
made  acceptable  seats.  One  end  of  the  tent  was  en- 
tirely open,  facing  a  glowing  fire  of  oak  logs.  Dick 
and  Warner  sat  down  on  the  stumps  and  spread  out 
their  hands  to  the  blaze.  Beyond  the  flames  they  saw 
the  wintry  forest  and  mountains,  seemingly  as  wild  as 
they  were  when  the  first  white  man  came. 

The  usual  coffee  and  food  were  brought,  and  while 
they  ate  and  drank  Major  Hertford  answered  the 
numerous  and  pertinent  questions  of  Colonel  Garfield. 
He  listened  attentively  to  the  account  of  the  fight  in 
the  mountains,  and  to  all  the  news  that  they  could  tell 
him  of  Washington. 

"We  have  been  cut  off  in  these  mountains,"  he  said. 
"I  know  very  little  of  what  is  going  on,  but  what  you 
say  only  confirms  my  own  opinion.  The  war  is  rap- 
idly spreading  over  a  much  greater  area,  and  I  believe 
that  its  scope  will  far  exceed  any  of  our  earlier  calcu- 
lations." 

A  grave  and  rather  sad  expression  occupied  for  a 
moment  the  mobile  face.  He  interested  Dick  greatly. 
He  seemed  to  him  scholar  and  thinker  as  well  as  sol- 
dier. He  and  Warner  long  afterward  attended  the 
inauguration  of  this  man  as  President  of  the  United 
States. 

After  a  brief  rest,  and  good  wishes  from  Garfield, 
Major  Hertford  and  his  command  soon  reached  the 
main  camp  under  Thomas.  Here  they  were  received 
by  a  man  very  different  in  appearance  and  manner 
from  Garfield. 

105 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

General  George  H.  Thomas,  who  was  to  receive  the 
famous  title,  "The  Rock  of  Chickamauga,"  was  then 
in  middle  years.  Heavily  built  and  bearded,  he  was 
chary  of  words.  He  merely  nodded  approval  when 
Major  Hertford  told  of  their  march. 

"I  will  assign  your  troops  to  a  brigade,"  he  said, 
"and  I  don't  think  you'll  have  long  to  wait.  We're 
expecting  a  battle  in  a  few  days  with  Crittenden  and 
Zollicoffer." 

"Not  much  to  say,"  remarked  Dick  to  Warner,  as 
they  went  away. 

"That's  true,"  said  Warner,  thoughtfully,  "but 
didn't  you  get  an  impression  of  strength  from  his  very 
silence?  I  should  say  that  in  his  make-up  he  is  five 
per  cent  talk,  twenty-five  per  cent  patience  and  sev- 
enty per  cent  action;  total,  one  hundred  per  cent." 

The  region  in  which  they  lay  was  west  of  the  higher 
mountains,  which  they  had  now  crossed,  but  it  was 
very  rough  and  hilly.  Not  far  from  them  was  a  little 
town  called  Somerset,  which  Dick  had  visited  once, 
and  near  by,  too,  was  the  deep  and  swift  Cumberland 
River,  with  much  floating  ice  at  its  edges.  When  the 
two  lads  lay  by  a  campfire  that  night  Sergeant  Whit- 
ley  came  to  them  with  the  news  of  the  situation,  which 
he  had  picked  up  in  his  usual  deft  and  quiet  way. 

"The  Southern  army  is  on  the  banks  of  the  Cum- 
berland," he  said.  "It  has  not  been  able  to  get  its 
provisions  by  land  through  Cumberland  Gap.  Instead 
they  have  been  brought  by  boats  on  the  river.  As  I 
hear  it,  Crittenden  and  Zollicoffer  are  afraid  that  our 
general  will  advance  to  the  river  an'  cut  off  these  sup- 

106 


MILL    SPRING 

plies.  So  they  mean  to  attack  us  as  soon  as  they  can. 
If  I  may  venture  to  say  so,  Mr.  Mason,  I'd  advise  that 
you  and  Lieutenant  Warner  get  as  good  a  rest  as  you 
can,  and  as  soon  as  you  can." 

They  ate  a  hearty  supper  and  being  told  by  Major 
Hertford  that  they  would  not  be  wanted  until  the  next 
day,  they  rolled  themselves  in  heavy  blankets,  and, 
pointing  their  feet  toward  a  good  fire,  slept  on  the 
ground.  The  night  was  very  cold,  because  it  was  now 
the  middle  of  January,  but  the  blankets  and  fire  kept 
them  warm. 

Dick  did  not  fall  to  sleep  for  some  time,  because  he 
knew  that  he  was  going  into  battle  again  in  a  few  days. 
He  was  on  the  soil  of  his  native  state  now.  He  had 
already  seen  many  Kentuckians  in  the  army  of  Thomas 
and  he  knew  that  they  would  be  numerous,  too,  in 
that  of  Crittenden  and  Zollicoffer.  To  some  extent  it 
would  be  a  battle  of  brother  against  brother.  He  was 
glad  that  Harry  Kenton  was  in  the  east.  He  did  not 
wish  in  the  height  of  battle  to  see  his  own  cousin  again 
on  the  opposite  side. 

But  when  he  did  fall  asleep  his  slumber  was  sound 
and  restful,  and  he  was  ready  and  eager  the  next 
morning,  when  the  sergeant,  Warner,  and  he  were  de- 
tached for  duty  in  a  scouting  party. 

"The  general  has  asked  that  you  be  sent  owing  to 
your  experience  in  the  mountains,"  said  Major  Hert- 
ford, "and  I  have  agreed  gladly.  I  hope  that  you're  as 
glad  as  I  am." 

"We  are,  sir,"  said  the  two  boys  together.  The  ser- 
geant stood  quietly  by  and  smiled. 

107 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

The  detachment  numbered  a  hundred  men,  all 
young,  strong,  and  well  mounted.  They  were  com- 
manded by  a  young  captain,  John  Markham,  in  whom 
Dick  recognized  a  distant  relative.  In  those  days 
nearly  all  Kentuckians  were  more  or  less  akin.  The 
kinship  was  sufficient  for  Markham  to  keep  the  two 
boys  on  either  side  of  him  with  Sergeant  Whitley  just 
behind.  Markham  lived  in  Frankfort  and  he  had 
marched  with  Thomas  from  the  cantonments  at  Leb- 
anon to  their  present  camp. 

"John,"  said  Dick,  addressing  him  familiarly  and  in 
right  of  kinship,  "you've  been  for  months  in  our  own 
county.  You've  surely  heard  something  from  Pendle- 
ton?" 

He  could  not  disguise  the  anxiety  in  his  voice,  and 
the  young  captain  regarded  him  with  sympathy. 

"I  had  news  from  there  about  a  month  ago,  Dick," 
he  replied.  "Your  mother  was  well  then,  as  I  have 
no  doubt  she  is  now.  The  place  was  not  troubled  by 
guerillas  who  are  hanging  on  the  fringe  of  the 
armies  here  in  Eastern,  or  in  Southern  and  Western 
Kentucky.  The  war  for  the  present  at  least  has  passed 
around  Pendleton.  Colonel  Kenton  was  at  Bowling 
Green  with  Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  and  his  son, 
Harry,  your  cousin,  is  still  in  the  East." 

It  was  a  rapid  and  condensed  statement,  but  it  was 
very  satisfying  to  Dick  who  now  rode  on  for  a  long 
time  in  silence.  The  road  was  as  bad  as  a  road  could 
be.  Snow  and  ice  were  mixed  with  the  deep  mud 
which  pulled  hard  at  the  hoofs  of  their  horses.  The 
country  was  rough,  sterile,  and  inhabited  but  thinly. 

108 


MILL    SPRING 

They  rode  many  miles  without  meeting  a  single  human 
being.  About  the  third  hour  they  saw  a  man  and  a 
boy  on  a  hillside  several  hundred  yards  away,  but 
when  Captain  Markham  and  a  chosen  few  galloped 
towards  them  they  disappeared  so  deftly  among  the 
woods  that  not  a  trace  of  them  could  be  found. 

"People  in  this  region  are  certainly  bashful,"  said 
Captain  Markham  with  a  vexed  laugh.  "We  meant 
them  no  harm,  but  they  wouldn't  stay  to  see  us." 

"But  they  don't  know  that,"  said  Dick  with  the  fa- 
miliarity of  kinship,  even  though  distant.  "I  fancy 
that  the  people  hereabouts  wish  both  Northerners  and 
Southerners  would  go  away." 

Two  miles  further  on  they  came  to  a  large,  double 
cabin  standing  back  a  little  distance  from  the  road. 
Smoke  was  rising  from  the  chimney,  and  Captain 
Markham  felt  sure  that  they  could  obtain  information 
from  its  inmates.  Dick,  at  his  direction,  beat  on  the 
door  with  the  butt  of  a  small  riding  whip.  There  was 
no  response.  He  beat  again  rapidly  and  heavily,  and 
no  answer  coming  he  pushed  in  the  door. 

A  fire  was  burning  on  the  hearth,  but  the  house  was 
abandoned.  Nor  had  the  owners  been  gone  long.  Be- 
sides the  fire  to  prove  it,  clothing  was  hanging  on 
hooks  in  the  wall,  and  there  was  food  in  the  cupboard. 
Captain  Markham  sighed. 

"Again  they're  afraid  of  us,"  he  said.  "I've  no 
doubt  the  signal  has  been  passed  ahead  of  us,  and  that 
we'll  not  get  within  speaking  distance  of  a  single  na- 
tive. Curious,  too,  because  this  region  in  the  main  is 
for  the  North." 

109 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"Perhaps  somebody  has  been  robbing  and  plunder- 
ing in  our  name,"  said  Dick.  "Skelly  and  his  raiders 
have  been  through  these  parts." 

"That's  so,"  said  Markham,  thoughtfully.  "I'm 
afraid  those  guerillas  who  claim  to  be  our  allies  are 
going  to  do  us  a  great  deal  of  harm.  Well,  we'll  turn 
back  into  the  road,  if  you  can  call  this  stream  of  icy 
mud  a  road,  and  go  on." 

Another  mile  and  they  caught  the  gleam  of  water 
among  the  wintry  boughs.  Dick  knew  that  it  was  the 
Cumberland  which  was  now  a  Southern  artery,  bring- 
ing stores  and  arms  for  the  army  of  Crittenden  and 
Zollicoffer.  Even  here,  hundreds  of  miles  from  its 
mouth,  it  was  a  stream  of  great  depth,  easily  navigable, 
and  far  down  its  current  they  saw  faintly  the  smoke 
of  two  steamers. 

"They  bear  supplies  for  the  Southern  army,"  said 
Captain  Markham.  "We  can  cut  off  the  passage  of 
boats  on  this  river  and  for  that  reason,  so  General 
Thomas  concludes,  the  Southern  army  is  going  to  at- 
tack us.  What  do  you  think  of  his  reasoning,  ser- 
geant?" 

"Beggin*  your  pardon,  sir,  for  passin'  an  opinion 
upon  my  general,"  replied  Sergeant  Whitley,  "but  I 
think  his  reasons  are  good.  Here  it  is  the  dead  of 
winter,  with  more  mud  in  the  roads  than  I  ever  saw 
before  anywhere,  but  there's  bound  to  be  a  battle  right 
away.  Men  will  fight,  sir,  to  keep  from  losin'  their 
grub." 

A  man  rode  forward  from  the  ranks,  saluted  and 
asked  leave  to  speak.  He  was  a  native  of  the  next 

no 


MILL    SPRING 

county  and  knew  that  region  well.  Two  miles  east 
of  them  and  running  parallel  with  the  road  over  which 
they  had  come  was  another  and  much  wider  road,  the 
one  that  they  called  the  big  road. 

"Which  means,  I  suppose,  that  it  contains  more 
mud  than  this  one,"  said  Captain  Markham. 

"True,  sir,"  replied  the  man,  "but  if  the  rebel  army 
is  advancing  it  is  likely  to  be  on  that  road." 

"That  is  certainly  sound  logic.  At  least  we'll  go 
there  and  see.  Can  you  lead  us  through  these  woods 
to  it?" 

"I  can  take  you  straight  across,"  replied  the  man 
whose  name  was  Carpenter.  "But  on  the  way  we'll 
have  to  ford  a  creek  which  is  likely  to  be  pretty  deep 
at  this  time  of  the  year." 

"Show  the  way,"  said  Captain  Markham  briskly. 

They  plunged  into  the  deep  woods,  and  Carpenter 
guided  them  well.  The  creek,  of  which  he  had  told, 
was  running  bankful  of  icy  water,  but  their  horses 
swam  it  and  they  kept  straight  ahead  until  Carpen- 
ter, who  was  a  little  in  advance,  held  up  a  warning 
hand. 

Captain  Markham  ordered  his  whole  troop  to  stop 
and  keep  as  quiet  as  possible.  Then  he,  Dick,  Warner, 
Sergeant  Whitley  and  Carpenter  rode  slowly  forward. 
Before  they  had  gone  many  yards  Dick  heard  the 
heavy  clank  of  metal,  the  cracking  of  whips,  the  swear- 
ing of  men,  and  the  sound  of  horses'  feet  splashing  in 
the  mud.  He  knew  by  the  amount  and  variety  of  the 
noises  that  a  great  force  was  passing. 

They  advanced  a  little  further  and  reined  into  a 

in 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

clump  of  bushes  which  despite  their  lack  of  leaves  were 
dense  enough  to  shelter  them  from  observation.  As 
the  bushes  grew  on  a  hillock  they  had  a  downward 
and  good  look  into  the  road,  which  was  fairly  packed 
with  men  in  the  gray  of  the  Confederate  army,  some 
on  horseback,  but  mostly  afoot,  their  cannon,  ammuni- 
tion and  supply  wagons  sinking  almost  to  the  hub  in 
the  mud.  As  far  as  Dick  could  see  the  gray  col- 
umns extended. 

"There  must  be  six  or  seven  thousand  men  here," 
he  said  to  Captain  Markham. 

"Undoubtedly,"  replied  Markham,  "this  is  the  main 
Confederate  army  advancing  to  attack  ours,  but  the 
badness  of  the  roads  operates  against  the  offense.  We 
shall  reach  General  Thomas  with  the  word  that  they 
are  coming  long  before  they  are  there." 

They  watched  the  marching  army  for  a  half  hour 
longer  in  order  to  be  sure  of  everything,  and  then 
turning  they  rode  as  fast  as  they  could  toward  Thomas, 
elated  at  their  success.  They  swam  the  creek  again, 
but  at  another  point.  Carpenter  told  them  that  the 
Southern  army  would  cross  it  on  a  bridge,  and  Mark- 
ham  lamented  that  he  could  not  turn  and  destroy 
this  bridge,  but  such  an  attempt  would  have  been 
folly. 

They  finally  turned  into  the  main  road  along  which 
the  Southern  army  was  coming,  although  they  were 
now  miles  ahead  of  it,  and,  covered  from  head  to  foot 
with  the  red  mud  of  the  hills,  they  urged  on  their 
worn  horses  toward  the  camp  of  Thomas. 

"I  haven't  had  much  experience  in  fighting,  but  I 
112 


MILL    SPRING 

should  imagine  that  complete  preparation  had  a  great 
deal  to  do  with  success,"  said  Captain  Markham. 

"I'd  put  it  at  sixty  per  cent,"  said  Warner. 

"And  I  should  say,"  added  Dick,  "that  the  road 
makes  at  least  eighty  per  cent  of  our  difficulty  in  get- 
ting back  to  Thomas." 

In  fact,  the  road  was  so  bad  that  they  were  com- 
pelled after  a  while  to  ride  into  the  woods  and  let  their 
ponies  rest.  Here  they  were  fired  upon  by  Confed- 
erate skirmishers  from  a  hill  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  away.  Their  numbers  were  small,  however,  and 
Captain  Markham's  force  charging  them  drove  them 
off  without  loss. 

Then  they  resumed  their  weary  journey,  but  the 
rest  had  not  fully  restored  the  horses  and  they  were 
compelled  at  times  to  walk  by  the  side  of  the  road, 
leading  their  mounts.  Sergeant  Whitley,  with  his  age 
and  experience,  was  most  useful  now  in  restraining  the 
impatient  young  men.  Although  of  but  humble  rank 
he  kept  them  from  exhausting  either  themselves  or 
their  horses. 

"It  will  be  long  after  dark  before  we  can  reach 
camp,"  said  Captain  Markham,  sighing  deeply.  "Con- 
found such  roads.  Why  not  call  them  morasses  and 
have  done  with  it!" 

"No,  we  can't  make  it  much  before  midnight,"  said 
Dick,  "but,  after  all,  that  will  be  early  enough.  If  I 
judge  him  right,  even  midnight  won't  catch  General 
Thomas  asleep." 

"You've  judged  him  right,"  said  Markham.  "I've 
been  with  Tap'  Thomas  some  time — we  call  him  Tap' 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

because  he  takes  such  good  care  of  us — and  I  think 
he  is  going  to  be  one  of  the  biggest  generals  in  this 
war.  Always  silent,  and  sometimes  slow  about  mak- 
ing up  his  mind  he  strikes  like  a  sledge-hammer  when 
he  does  strike." 

"He'll  certainly  have  the  opportunity  to  give  blow 
for  blow,"  said  Dick,  as  he  remembered  that  marching 
army  behind  them.  "How  far  do  you  think  it  is  yet  to 
the  general's  camp?" 

"Not  more  than  a  half  dozen  miles,  but  it  will 
be  dark  in  a  few  minutes,  and  at  the  rate  we're 
going  it  will  tiuce  us  two  full  hours  more  to  get 
there." 

The  wintry  days  were  short  and  the  sun  slid  down 
the  gray,  cold  sky,  leaving  forest  and  hills  in  darkness. 
But  the  little  band  toiled  patiently  on,  while  the  night 
deepened  and  darkened,  and  a  chill  wind  whistled 
down  from  the  ridges.  The  officers  were  silent  now, 
but  they  looked  eagerly  for  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
campfires  of  Thomas.  At  last  they  saw  the  little 
pink  dots  in  the  darkness,  and  then  they  pushed  for- 
ward with  new  zeal,  urging  their  weary  horses  into  a 
run. 

When  Captain  Markham,  Dick  and  Warner  galloped 
into  camp,  ahead  of  the  others,  a  thickset  strong  figure 
walked  forward  to  meet  them.  They  leaped  from  their 
horses  and  saluted. 

"Well?"  said  General  Thomas. 

"The  enemy  is  advancing  upon  us  in  full  force,  sir," 
replied  Captain  Markham. 

"You  scouted  thoroughly?" 
114 


MILL    SPRING 

"We  saw  their  whole  army  upon  the  road." 

"When  do  you  think  they  could  reach  us?" 

"About  dawn,  sir." 

"Very  good.  We  shall  be  ready.  You  and  your 
men  have  done  well.  Now,  find  food  and  rest.  You 
will  be  awakened  in  time  for  the  battle." 

Dick  walked  away  with  his  friends.  Troopers  took 
their  horses  and  cared  for  them.  The  boy  glanced 
back  at  the  thickset,  powerful  figure,  standing  by  one 
of  the  fires  and  looking  gravely  into  the  coals.  More 
than  ever  the  man  with  the  strong,  patient  look  inspired 
confidence  in  him.  He  was  sure  now  that  they  would 
win  on  the  morrow.  Markham  and  Warner  felt  the 
same  confidence. 

"There's  a  lot  in  having  a  good  general,"  said  War- 
ner, who  had  also  glanced  back  at  the  strong  figure. 
"Do  you  remember,  Dick,  what  it  was  that  Napoleon 
said  about  generals?" 

"A  general  is  everything,  an  army  nothing  or  some- 
thing like  that." 

"Yes,  that  was  it.  Of  course,  he  didn't  mean  it  just 
exactly  as  he  said  it.  A  general  can't  be  one  hun- 
dred per  cent  and  an  army  none.  It  was  a  figure  of 
speech  so  to  say,  but  I  imagine  that  a  general  is  about 
forty  per  cent.  If  we  had  had  such  leadership  at  Bull 
Run  we'd  have  won. " 

Dick  and  Warner,  worn  out  by  their  long  ride,  soon 
slept  but  there  was  movement  all  around  them  during 
the  late  hours  of  the  night.  Thomas  with  his  cautious, 
measuring  mind  was  rectifying  his  lines  in  the  wintry 
darkness.  He  occupied  a  crossing  of  the  roads,  and 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

he  posted  a  strong  battery  of  artillery  to  cover  the 
Southern  approach.  Around  him  were  men  from  Ken- 
tucky, the  mountains  of  Tennessee,  Ohio,  Indiana,  and 
Minnesota.  The  Minnesota  troops  were  sun-tanned 
men  who  had  come  more  than  a  thousand  miles  from 
an  Indian-infested  border  to  defend  the  Union. 

All  through  the  night  Thomas  worked.  He  directed 
men  with  spades  to  throw  up  more  intrenchments.  He 
saw  that  the  guns  of  the  battery  were  placed  exactly 
right.  He  ordered  that  food  should  be  ready  for  all 
very  early  in  the  morning,  and  then,  when  nothing 
more  remained  to  be  done,  save  to  wait  for  the  decree 
of  battle,  he  sat  before  his  tent  wrapped  in  a  heavy 
military  overcoat,  silent  and  watchful.  Scouts  had 
brought  in  additional  news  that  the  Southern  army 
was  still  marching  steadily  along  the  muddy  roads, 
and  that  Captain  Markham's  calculation  of  its  arrival 
about  dawn  would  undoubtedly  prove  correct. 

Dick  awoke  while  it  was  yet  dark,  and  throwing  off 
the  heavy  blankets  stood  up. 

Although  the  dawn  had  not  come,  the  night  was 
now  fairly  light  and  Dick  could  see  a  long  distance 
over  the  camp  which  stretched  to  left  and  right  along 
a  great  front.  Near  him  was  the  battery  with  most 
of  the  men  sleeping  beside  their  guns,  and  not  far 
away  was  the  tent.  Although  he  could  not  see  the 
general,  he  knew  instinctively  that  he  was  not  asleep. 

It  was  cold  and  singularly  still,  considering  the  pres- 
ence of  so  many  thousands  of  men.  He  did  not  hear 
the  sound  of  human  voices  and  there  was  no  stamp  of 
horses'  feet.  They,  too,  were  weary  and  resting.  Then 

116 


MILL    SPRING 

Dick  was  conscious  of  a  tall,  thin  figure  beside  him. 
Warner  had  awakened,  too. 

"Dick,"  he  said,  "it  can't  be  more  than  an  hour  till 
dawn. " 

"Just  about  that  I  should  say." 

"And  the  scene,  that  is  as  far  as  we  can  see  it,  is 
most  peaceful." 

Dick  made  no  answer,  but  stood  a  long  time  listen- 
ing. Then  he  said : 

"My  ears  are  pretty  good,  George,  and  sound  will 
carry  very  far  in  this  silence  just  before  the  dawn.  I 
thought  I  heard  a  faint  sound  like  the  clank  of  a  can- 
non." 

"I  think  I  hear  it,  too,"  said  Warner,  "and  here  is 
the  dawn  closer  at  hand  than  we  thought.  Look  at 
those  cold  rays  over  there,  behind  that  hill  in  the  east. 
They  are  the  vanguard  of  the  sun." 

"So  they  are.  And  this  is  the  vanguard  of  the 
Southern  army!" 

He  spoke  the  last  words  quickly  and  with  excite- 
ment. 

In  front  of  them  down  the  road  they  heard  the 
crackle  of  a  dozen  rifle  shots.  The  Southern  advance 
undoubtedly  had  come  into  contact  with  the  Union 
sentinels  and  skirmishers.  After  the  first  shots  there 
was  a  moment's  breathless  silence,  and  then  came  a 
scattered  and  rapid  fire,  as  if  at  least  a  hundred  rifles 
were  at  work. 

Dick's  pulse  began  to  beat  hard,  and  he  strained  his 
eyes  through  the  darkness,  but  he  could  not  yet  see 
the  enemy.  He  saw  instead  little  jets  of  fire  like  red 

117 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

dots  appearing  on  the  horizon,  and  then  the  sound  of 
the  rifles  came  again.  Warner  was  with  him  and  both 
stood  by  the  side  of  Major  Hertford,  ready  to  receive 
and  deliver  his  orders.  Dick  now  heard  besides  the 
firing  in  front  the  confused  murmur  and  moving  of 
the  Union  army. 

Few  of  these  troops  had  been  in  battle  before — the 
same  could  be  said  of  the  soldiers  on  the  other  side — 
and  this  attack  in  the  half-light  troubled  them.  They 
wished  to  see  the  men  who  were  going  to  shoot  at 
them,  in  order  that  they  might  have  a  fair  target  in 
return.  Fighting  in  the  night  was  scarcely  fair.  One 
never  knew  what  to  do.  But  Thomas,  the  future 
"Rock  of  Chickamauga,"  was  already  showing  him- 
self a  tower  of  strength.  He  reassured  his  nervous 
troops,  he  borrowed  Dick  and  Warner  and  sent  them 
along  the  line  with  messages  from  himself  that  they 
had  nothing  to  do  but  stand  firm  and  the  victory  was 
theirs. 

Meanwhile  the  line  of  red  dots  in  front  was  lengh- 
ening.  It  stretched  farther  to  left  and  right  than  Dick 
could  see,  and  was  rapidly  coming  nearer.  Already 
the  sentinels  and  skirmishers  were  waging  a  sharp  con- 
flict, and  the  shouts  of  the  combatants  increased  in 
volume.  Then  the  cold  sun  swung  clear  of  the  earth, 
and  its  wintry  beams  lighted  up  both  forest  and  open. 
The  whole  Southern  army  appeared,  advancing  in 
masses,  and  Dick,  who  was  now  with  Major  Hertford 
again,  saw  the  pale  rays  falling  on  rifles  and  bayonets, 
and  the  faces  of  his  own  countrymen  as  they  marched 
upon  the  Union  camp. 

I  If 


MILL    SPRING 

"There's  danger  for  our  army!  Lots  of  it!"  said 
Warner,  as  he  watched  the  steady  advance  of  the 
Southern  brigades. 

Dick  remembered  Bull  Run,  but  his  thoughts  ran 
back  to  the  iron  general  who  commanded  now. 

"Thomas  will  save  us,"  he  said. 

The  skirmishers  on  both  sides  were  driven  in. 
Their  scattered  fire  ceased,  but  a  moment  later  the 
whole  front  of  the  Southern  army  burst  into  flame.  It 
seemed  to  Dick  that  one  vast  sheet  of  light  like  a 
sword  blade  suddenly  shot  forward,  and  then  a  storm 
of  lead,  bearing  many  messengers  of  death,  beat 
upon  the  Northern  army,  shattering  its  front  lines  and 
carrying  confusion  among  its  young  troops.  But  the 
officers  and  a  few  old  regulars  like  Sergeant  Whitley 
steadied  them  and  they  returned  the  fire. 

Major  Hertford,  Dick  and  Warner  were  all  on  foot, 
and  their  own  little  band,  already  tried  in  battle, 
yielded  not  an  inch.  They  formed  a  core  of  resistance 
around  which  others  rallied  and  Thomas  himself  was 
passing  along  the  line,  giving  heart  to  the  lads  fresh 
from  the  farms. 

But  the  Southern  army  fired  again,  and  shouting 
the  long  fierce  rebel  yell,  charged  with  all  its  strength. 
Dick  saw  before  him  a  vast  cloud  of  smoke,  through 
which  fire  flashed  and  bullets  whistled.  He  heard 
men  around  him  uttering  short  cries  of  pain,  and  he 
saw  others  fall,  mostly  sinking  forward  on  their  faces. 
But  those  who  stood,  held  fast  and  loaded  and  fired 
untils  the  barrels  of  their  rifles  burned  to  the  touch. 

Dick  felt  many  tremors  at  first,  but  soon  the  passion 

119 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

of  battle  seized  him.  He  carried  no  rifle,  but  holding 
his  officer's  small  sword  in  his  hand  he  ran  up  and 
down  the  line  crying  to  the  men  to  stand  firm,  that 
they  would  surely  beat  back  the  enemy.  That  film 
of  fire  and  smoke  was  yet  before  his  eyes,  but  he  saw 
through  it  the  faces  of  his  countrymen  still  coming 
on.  He  heard  to  his  right  the  thudding  of  the  great 
guns  that  Thomas  had  planted  on  a  low  hill,  but  the 
rifle  fire  was  like  the  beat  of  hail,  a  crackling  and  hiss- 
ing that  never  ceased. 

The  farm  lads,  their  rifles  loaded  afresh,  fired  anew 
at  the  enemy,  almost  in  their  faces,  and  the  Southern 
line  here  reeled  back  against  so  firm  and  deadly  a 
front. 

But  an  alrming  report  ran  down  the  line  that  their 
left  was  driven  back,  and  it  was  true.  The  valiant 
Zollicoffer  leading  his  brigade  in  person,  had  rushed 
upon  this  portion  of  the  Northern  army  which  was 
standing  upon  another  low  hill  and  struck  it  with  great 
violence.  It  was  wavering  and  would  give  way  soon. 
But  Thomas,  showing  the  singular  calm  that  always 
marked  him  in  battle,  noticed  the  weak  spot.  The 
general  was  then  near  Major  Hertford.  He  quickly 
wrote  a  dispatch  and  beckoned  to  Dick : 

"Here,"  he  said,  "jump  on  the  horse  that  the  ser- 
geant is  holding  for  me,  and  bring  up  our  reserve,  the 
brigade  under  General  Carter.  They  are  to  meet  the 
attack  there  on  the  hill,  where  our  troops  are  waver- 
ing!" 

Dick,  aflame  with  excitement,  leaped  into  the  saddle, 
and  while  the  roar  of  battle  was  still  in  his  ears 

1 20 


MILL    SPRING 

reached  the  brigade  of  Carter,  already  marching  to- 
ward the  thick  of  the  conflict.  One  entire  regiment, 
composed  wholly  of  Kentuckians,  was  detached  to  help 
the  Indiana  troops  who  were  being  driven  fiercely  by 
Zollicoffer. 

Dick  rode  at  the  head  of  the  Kentuckians,  but  a 
bullet  struck  his  horse  in  the  chest.  The  boy  felt  the 
animal  shiver  beneath  him,  and  he  leaped  clear  just  in 
time,  the  horse  falling  heavily  and  lying  quite  still. 
But  Dick  alighted  on  his  feet,  and  still  brandish- 
ing his  sword,  and  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 
ran  on. 

In  an  instant  they  reached  the  Indiana  troops,  who 
turned  with  them,  and  the  combined  forces  hurled 
themselves  upon  the  enemy.  The  Southerners,  refus- 
ing to  yield  the  ground  they  had  gained,  received 
them,  and  there  began  a  confused  and  terrible  combat, 
shoulder  to  shoulder  and  hand  to  hand.  Elsewhere 
the  battle  continued,  but  here  it  raged  the  fiercest. 
Both  commanders  knew  that  they  were  to  win  or 
lose  upon  this  hill,  and  they  poured  in  fresh  troops 
who  swelled  the  area  of  conflict  and  deepened  its  in- 
tensity. 

Dick  saw  Warner  by  his  side,  but  he  did  not  know 
how  he  had  come  there,  and  just  beyond  him  the  thick 
and  powerful  figure  of  Sergeant  Whitley  showed 
through  the  hot  haze  of  smoke.  The  back  of  War- 
ner's hand  had  been  grazed  by  a  bullet.  He  had  not 
noticed  it  himself,  but  the  slow  drip,  drip  of  the  blood 
held  Dick  for  a  moment  with  a  sort  of  hideous  fasci- 
nation. Then  he  broke  his  gaze  violently  away  and 

121 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

turned  it  upon  the  enemy,  who  were  pouring  upon 
them  in  all  their  massed  strength. 

Thomas  had  sent  the  Kentuckians  to  the  aid  of  the 
Indiana  men  just  in  time.  The  hill  was  a  vast  bank 
of  smoke  and  fire,  filled  with  whistling  bullets  and 
shouts  of  men  fighting  face  to  face.  Some  one  reeled 
•and  fell  against  Dick,  and  for  a  moment,  he  was  in 
horror  lest  it  should  be  Warner,  but  a  glance  showed 
him  that  it  was  a  stranger.  Then  he  rushed  on  again, 
filled  with  a  mad  excitement,  waving  his  small  sword, 
and  shouting  to  the  men  to  charge. 

From  right  to  left  the  roar  of  battle  came  to  his 
ears,  but  on  the  hill  where  he  stood  the  struggle  was 
at  its  height.  The  lines  of  Federals  and  Confederates, 
face  to  face  at  first,  now  became  mixed,  but  neither 
side  gained.  In  the  fiery  struggle  a  Union  officer,  Fry, 
saw  Zollicoffer  only  a  few  feet  away.  Snatching  out 
his  pistol  he  shot  him  dead.  The  Southerners  seeing 
the  fall  of  the  general  who  was  so  popular  among 
them  hesitated  and  then  gave  back.  Thomas,  watching 
everything  with  keen  and  steady  gaze,  hurled  an  Ohio 
regiment  from  the  right  flank  upon  the  Southern  cen- 
ter, causing  it  to  give  way  yet  further  under  the 
shock. 

"We  win!  We  win!"  shouted  Dick  in  his  ardor,  as 
he  saw  the  Southern  line  yielding.  But  the  victory 
was  not  yet  achieved.  Crittenden,  who  was  really 
Zollicoffer's  superior  in  the  command,  displayed  the 
most  heroic  courage  throughout  the  battle.  He 
brought  up  fresh  troops  to  help  his  weakened  center. 
He  reformed  his  lines  and  was  about  to  restore  the 

122 


MILL   SPRING 

battle,  but  Thomas,  silent  and  ever  watchful,  now 
rushed  in  a  brigade  of  Tennessee  mountaineers,  and 
as  they  struck  with  all  their  weight,  the  new  line  of 
the  South  was  compelled  to  give  way.  Success  seen 
and  felt  filled  the  veins  of  the  soldiers  with  fresh  fire, 
Dick  and  the  men  about  him  saw  the  whole  Southern 
line  crumble  up  before  them.  The  triumphant  Union 
army  rushed  forward  shouting,  and  the  Confederates 
were  forced  to  give  way  at  all  points. 

Dick  and  Warner,  with  the  watchful  sergeant  near, 
were  in  the  very  front  of  the  advance.  The  two  young 
aides  carried  away  by  success  and  the  fire  of  battle, 
waved  their  swords  continually  and  rushed  at  the 
enemy's  lines. 

Dick's  face  was  covered  with  smoke,  his  lips  were 
burnt,  and  his  throat  was  raw  from  so  much  shouting. 
But  he  was  conscious  only  of  great  elation.  "This 
is  not  another  Bull  Run!"  he  cried  to  Warner,  and 
Warner  cried  back:  "Not  by  a  long  shot!" 

Thomas,  still  cool,  watchful,  and  able  to  judge  of 
results  amid  all  the  thunder  and  confusion  of  battle, 
hurried  every  man  into  the  attack.  He  was  showing 
upon  this,  his  first  independent  field,  all  the  great  quali- 
ties he  was  destined  later  to  manifest  so  brilliantly  in 
some  of  the  greatest  battles  of  modern  times. 

The  Southern  lines  were  smashed  completely  by 
those  heavy  and  continuous  blows.  Driven  hard  on 
every  side  they  now  retreated  rapidly,  and  their  tri- 
umphant enemies  seized  prisoners  and  cannon. 

The  whole  Confederate  army  continued  its  swift 
retreat  until  it  reached  its  intrenchments,  where  the 

123 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

icers  rallied  the  men  and  turned  to  face  their  enemy. 
But  the  cautious  Thomas  stopped.  He  had  no  in- 
tention of  losing  his  victory  by  an  attack  upon  an 
intrenched  foe,  and  drew  off  for  the  present.  His 
army  encamped  out  of  range  and  began  to  attend  to 
the  wounded  and  bury  the  dead. 

Dick,  feeling  the  reaction  after  so  much  exertion 
and  excitement,  sat  down  on  a  fallen  tree  trunk  and 
drew  long,  panting  breaths.  He  saw  Warner  near 
and  remembered  the  blood  that  had  been  dripping 
from  his  hand. 

"Do  you  know  that  you  are  wounded,  George  ?"  he 
said.  "Look  at  the  back  of  your  hand." 

Warner  glanced  at  it  and  noticed  the  red  stripe. 
It  had  ceased  to  bleed. 

"Now,  that's  curious,"  he  said.  "I  never  felt  it. 
My  blood  and  brain  were  both  so  hot  that  the  flick 
of  a  bullet  created  no  sensation.  I  have  figured  it  out, 
Dick,  and  I  have  concluded  that  seventy  per  cent  of 
our  bravery  in  battle  is  excitement,  leaving  twenty 
per  cent  to  will  and  ten  per  cent  to  chance." 

"I  suppose  your  calculation  is  close  enough." 

"It's  not  close  merely.    It's  exact." 

Both  sprang  to  their  feet  and  saluted  as  Major 
Hertford  approached.  He  had  escaped  without  harm 
and  he  saw  with  pleasure  that  the  lads  were  alive  and 
well,  except  for  Warner's  slight  wound. 

"You  can  rest  now,  boys,"  he  said,  "I  won't  need 
you  for  some  time.  But  I  can  tell  you  that  I  don't 
think  General  Thomas  means  to  quit.  He  will  follow 
up  his  victory." 

124 


MILL    SPRING 

But  Dick  and  Warner  had  been  sure  of  that  al- 
ready. The  army,  flushed  with  triumph,  was  eager  to 
be  led  on,  even  to  make  a  night  attack  on  the  intrench- 
ments  of  the  enemy,  but  Thomas  held  them,  knowing 
that  another  brigade  of  Northern  troops  was  march- 
ing to  his  aid.  The  brigade  came,  but  it  was  now 
dark  and  he  would  not  risk  a  night  attack.  But  some 
of  the  guns  were  brought  up  and  they  sent  a  dozen 
heavy  cannon  shot  into  the  intrenchments  of  the 
enemy.  There  was  no  reply  and  neither  of  the  boys, 
although  they  strained  ears,  could  hear  anything  in 
the  defeated  camp. 

"I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  we  found  them  gone  in 
the  morning,"  said  Major  Hertford  to  Dick.  "But 
I  think  our  general  is  right  in  not  making  any  attack 
upon  their  works.  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Sergeant 
Whitley?  You've  had  a  lot  of  experience." 

Sergeant  Whitley  was  standing  beside  them,  also 
trying  to  pierce  the  darkness  with  trained  eyes,  al- 
though he  could  not  see  the  Confederate  intrench- 
ments. 

"If  a  sergeant  may  offer  an  opinion  I  agree  with 
you  fully,  sir,"  he  said.  "A  night  attack  is  always 
risky,  an'  most  of  all,  sir,  when  troops  are  new  like 
ours,  although  they're  as  brave  as  anybody.  More'n 
likely  if  we  was  to  rush  on  'em  our  troops  would  be 
shootin'  into  one  another  in  the  darkness." 

"Good  logic,"  said  Major  Hertford,  "and  as  it  is 
quite  certain  that  they  are  not  in  any  condition  to 
come  out  and  attack  us  we'll  stand  by  and  wait  till 
morning.  So  the  general  orders." 

125 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

They  walked  back  toward  the  place  where  the  vic- 
torious troops  were  lighting  the  fires,  out  of  the  range 
of  the  cannon  in  the  Confederate  intrenchments.  They 
were  exultant,  but  they  were  not  boasting  unduly. 
Night,  cold  and  dark,  had  shut  down  upon  them  and 
was  taking  the  heat  out  of  their  blood.  Hundreds  of 
men  were  at  work  building  fires,  and  Dick  and  War- 
ner, with  the  permission  of  Major  Hertford,  joined 
them. 

Both  boys  felt  that  the  work  would  be  a  relief. 
Wood  was  to  be  had  in  abundance.  The  forest 
stretched  on  all  sides  of  them  in  almost  unbroken 
miles,  and  the  earth  was  littered  with  dead  wood  fallen 
a  year  or  years  before.  They  merely  kept  away  from 
the  side  on  which  the  Confederate  intrenchments  lay, 
and  brought  in  the  wood  in  great  quantities.  A  row 
of  lights  a  half  mile  long  sprang  up,  giving  forth  heat 
and  warmth.  Then  arose  the  cheerful  sound  of  tin 
and  iron  dishes  and  cups  rattling  against  one  another. 
A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  they  were  eating  a  victori- 
ous supper,  and  a  little  later  most  of  them  slept 

But  in  the  night  the  Confederate  troops  abandoned 
their  camp,  leaving  in  it  ten  cannon  and  fifteen  hun- 
dred wagons  and  crossed  the  river  in  boats,  which  they 
destroyed  when  they  reached  the  other  side.  Then, 
their  defeat  being  so  severe,  and  they  but  volunteers, 
they  scattered  in  the  mountains  to  seek  food  and 
shelter  for  the  remainder  of  the  winter. 

This  army  of  the  South  ceased  to  exist. 


CHAPTER    VII 

THE  MESSENGER 

VICTORY,  overwhelming  and  complete,  had 
been  won,  but  General  Thomas  could  not  fol- 
low into  the  deep  mountains  where  his  army 
might  be  cut  off.  So  he  remained  where  he  was  for 
a  little  while  and  on  the  second  day  he  sent  for  Dick. 

The  general  was  seated  alone  in  a  tent,  an  open  end 
of  which  faced  a  fire,  as  it  was  now  extremely  cold. 
General  Thomas  had  shown  no  undue  elation  over  his 
victory.  He  was  as  silent  as  ever,  and  now,  as  always, 
he  made  upon  Dick  the  impression  of  strength  and 
indomitable  courage. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said,  waving  his  hand  toward  a 
camp  stool. 

Dick,  after  saluting,  sat  down  in  silence. 

"I  hear,"  said  the  general,  "that  you  behaved  very 
well  in  the  battle,  and  that  you  are  a  lad  of  courage 
and  intelligence.  Courage  is  common,  intelligence, 
real  intelligence,  is  rare.  You  were  at  Bull  Run  also, 
so  I  hear." 

"I  was,  and  the  army  fought  well  there  too,  but 
late  in  the  day  it  was  seized  with  a  sudden  panic." 

"Something  that  may  happen  at  any  time  to  raw 
troops.  But  we'll  pass  to  the  question  in  hand.  The 

127 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

campaign  here  in  the  mountains  is  ended  for  this  win- 
ter, but  great  matters  are  afoot  further  west.  A 
courier  arrived  last  night  stating  that  General  Grant 
and  Commodore  Foote  were  preparing  to  advance  by 
water  from  Cairo,  Illinois,  and  attempt  the  reduction 
of  the  Confederate  forts  on  the  Cumberland  and  Ten- 
nessee. General  Buell,  one  of  your  own  Kentuckians, 
is  advancing  southward  with  a  strong  Union  force, 
and  in  a  few  days  his  outposts  will  be  on  Green  River. 
It  will  be  of  great  advantage  to  Buell  to  know  that  the 
Confederate  army  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  state  is  de- 
stroyed. He  can  advance  with  freedom  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  Southern  leader,  Albert  Sidney  John- 
ston, will  be  compelled  to  throw  a  portion  of  his  force 
to  the  eastward  to  protect  his  flank  which  has  been 
uncovered  by  our  victory  at  Mill  Spring.  Do  you 
understand  ?" 

"I  do,  sir." 

"Then  you  are  to  carry  dispatches  of  the  utmost 
importance  from  me  to  General  Buell.  After  you 
reach  his  camp — if  you  reach  it — you  will,  of  course, 
be  subject  to  his  orders.  I  have  learned  that  you 
know  the  country  well  between  here  and  Green  River. 
Because  of  that,  and  because  of  your  intelligence,  real 
intelligence,  I  mean,  you  are  chosen  for  this  task. 
You  are  to  change  to  citizen's  clothes  at  once,  and  a 
horse  of  great  power  and  endurance  has  been  selected 
for  you.  But  you  must  use  all  your  faculties  all  the 
time.  I  warn  you  that  the  journey  is  full  of  danger." 

"I  can  carry  it  out,"  replied  Dick  with  quiet  con- 
fidence, "and  I  thank  you  for  choosing  me." 

128 


THE    MESSENGER 

"I  believe  you  will  succeed,"  said  the  general,  who 
liked  his  tone.  "Return  here  in  an  hour  with  all  your 
preparations  made,  and  I  will  give  you  the  dispatches." 

Warner  was  filled  with  envy  that  his  comrade  was 
to  go  on  a  secret  mission  of  great  importance,  but  he 
generously  wished  him  a  full  measure  of  success. 

"Remember,"  he  said,  "that  on  an  errand  like 
yours,  presence  of  mind  counts  for  at  least  fifty  per 
cent.  Have  a  quick  tongue.  Always  be  ready  with 
a  tale  that  looks  true." 

"An'  remember,  too,"  said  Sergeant  Whitley,  "tHat 
however  tight  a  place  you  get  into  you  can  get  into  one 
tighter.  Think  of  that  and  it  will  encourage  you  to 
pull  right  out  of  the  hole." 

The  two  wrung  his  hand  and  Major  Hertford  also 
gave  him  his  warmest  wishes.  The  horse  chosen  for 
him  was  a  bay  of  tremendous  power,  and  Dick  knew 
that  he  would  serve  him  well.  He  carried  double 
blankets  strapped  to  the  saddle,  pistols  in  holsters  with 
another  in  his  belt,  an  abundance  of  ammunition,  and 
food  for  several  days  in  his  saddle  bags.  Then  he  re- 
turned to  General  Thomas,  who  handed  him  a  .thin 
strip  of  tissue  paper. 

"It  is  written  in  indelible  ink,"  he  said,  "and  it 
contains  a  statement  of  our  forces  and  their  positions 
here  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  state.  It  also  tells  Gen- 
eral Buell  what  reinforcements  he  can  expect.  If  you 
are  in  imminent  danger  of  capture  destroy  the  paper, 
but  to  provide  for  such  a  chance,  in  case  you  escape 
afterward,  I  will  read  the  dispatches  to  you." 

He  read  them  over  several  times  and  then  questioned 

129 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Dick.  But  the  boy's  memory  was  good.  In  fact,  every 
word  of  the  dispatches  was  burnt  into  his  brain,  and 
nothing  could  make  him  forget  them. 

"And  now,  my  lad,"  said  General  Thomas,  giving 
him  his  hand,  "you  may  help  us  greatly.  I  would  not 
send  a  boy  upon  such  an  errand,  but  the  demands  of 
war  are  terrible  and  must  be  obeyed." 

The  strong  grasp  of  the  general's  hand  imparted 
fresh  enthusiasm  to  Dick,  and  for  the  present  he  did 
not  have  the  slightest  doubt  that  he  would  get  safely 
through.  He  wore  a  strong  suit  of  home-made  brown 
jeans,  a  black  felt  cap  with  ear-flaps,  and  high  boots. 
The  dispatch  was  pinned  into  a  small  inside  pocket  of 
his  vest. 

He  rode  quickly  out  of  camp,  giving  the  sentinels 
the  pass  word,  and  the  head  of  the  horse  was  pointed 
•west  slightly  by  north.  The  ground  was  now  frozen 
and  he  did  not  have  the  mud  to  hold  him  back. 

The  horse  evidently  had  been  longing  for  action. 
Such  thews  and  sinews  as  his  needed  exercise.  He 
stretched  out  his  long  neck,  neighed  joyously,  and 
broke  of  his  own  accord  into  an  easy  canter.  It  was  a 
lonely  road,  and  Dick  was  glad  that  it  was  so.  The 
fewer  people  he  met  the  better  it  was  in  every  way 
for  him. 

He  shared  the  vigor  and  spirit  of  his  horse.  His 
breath  turned  to  smoke,  but  the  cold  whipped  his  blood 
into  a  quicker  torrent.  He  hummed  snatches  of  the 
songs  that  he  had  heard  Samuel  Jarvis  sing,  and  went 
on  mile  after  mile  through  the  high  hills  toward  the 
low  hills  of  Kentucky. 

130 


THE    MESSENGER 

Dick  did  not  pass  many  people.  The  ancient  name 
of  his  state — the  Dark  and  Bloody  Ground — came 
back  to  him.  He  knew  that  war  in  one  of  its  worst 
forms  existed  in  this  wild  sweep  of  hills.  Here  the 
guerillas  rode,  choosing  their  sides  as  suited  them  best, 
and  robbing  as  paid  them  most.  Nor  did  these  rough 
men  hesitate  at  murder.  So  he  rode  most  of  the  time 
with  his  hand  on  the  butt  of  the  pistol  at  his  belt,  and 
whenever  he  went  through  woods,  which  was  most  of 
the  time,  he  kept  a  wary  watch  to  right  and  to  left. 

The  first  person  whom  he  passed  was  a  boy  riding 
on  a  sack  of  grain  to  mill.  Dick  greeted  him  cheer- 
fully and  the  boy  with  the  fearlessness  of  youth  re- 
plied in  the  same  manner. 

"Any  news  your  way?"  asked  Dick. 

"Nothin'  at  all,"  replied  the  boy,  his  eyes  enlarging 
with  excitement,  "but  from  the  way  you  are  comin' 
we  heard  tell  there  was  a  great  battle,  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  men  on  each  side  an'  that  the  Yankees 
won.  Is  it  so,  Mister?" 

"It  is  true,"  replied  Dick.  "A  dozen  people  have 
told  me  of  it,  but  the  armies  were  not  quite  so  large 
as  you  heard.  It  is  true  also  that  the  Yankees  won." 

"I'll  tell  that  at  the  mill.  It  will  be  big  news  to 
them.  An'  which  way  be  you  goin',  Mister?"  said  the 
boy  with  all  the  frankness  of  the  hills. 

"I'm  on  my  way  to  the  middle  part  of  the  state. 
I've  been  looking  after  some  land  that  my  people  own 
in  the  mountains.  Looks  like  a  lonesome  road,  this. 
Will  I  reach  any  house  soon?" 

"Thar's  Ben  Trimble's  three  miles  further  on,  but 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

take  my  advice  an'  don't  stop  thar.  Ben  says  he  ain't 
goin'  to  be  troubled  in  these  war  times  by  visitors,  an' 
he's  likely  to  meet  you  at  the  door  with  his  double- 
barreled  shotgun." 

"I  won't  knock  on  Ben's  door,  so  he  needn't  take 
down  his  double-barreled  shotgun.  What's  next  be- 
yond Ben's  house?" 

"A  half  mile  further  on  you  come  to  Hungry 
Creek.  It  ain't  much  in  the  middle  of  summer,  but 
right  now  it's  full  of  cold  water,  'nough  of  it  to  come 
right  up  to  your  hoss's  body.  You  go  through  it 
keerful." 

"Thank  you  for  your  good  advice,"  said  Dick.  "I'll 
follow  it,  too.  Good-bye." 

He  waved  his  gauntleted  hand  and  rode  on.  A 
hundred  yards  further  and  he  glanced  back.  The  boy 
had  stopped  on  the  crest  of  a  hill,  and  was  looking 
at  him.  But  Dick  knew  that  it  was  only  the  natural 
curiosity  of  the  hills  and  he  renewed  his  journey  with- 
out apprehension. 

At  the  appointed  time  he  saw  the  stout  log  cabin 
of  Ben  Trimble  by  the  roadside  with  the  warm  smoke 
rising  from  the  chimney,  but  true  to  his  word  he  gave 
Ben  and  his  shotgun  no  trouble,  and  continued  straight 
ahead  over  the  frozen  road  until  he  came  to  the  banks 
of  Hungry  Creek.  Here,  too,  the  words  of  the  boy 
came  true.  The  water  was  both  deep  and  cold,  and 
Dick  looked  at  it  doubtfully. 

He  urged  his  great  horse  into  the  stream  at  last, 
and  it  appeared  that  the  creek  had  risen  somewhat 
since  the  boy  had  last  seen  it.  In  the  middle  the 

132 


THE    MESSENGER 

horse  was  compelled  to  swim,  but  it  was  no  task  for 
such  a  powerful  animal,  and  Dick,  holding  his  feet 
high,  came  dry  to  the  shore  that  he  sought. 

The  road  led  on  through  high  hills,  covered  with  oak 
and  beech  and  cedar  and  pine,  all  the  deciduous  trees 
bare  of  leaves,  their  boughs  rustling  dryly  whenever 
the  wind  blew.  He  saw  the  smoke  of  three  cabins 
nestling  in  snug  coves,  but  it  was  a  full  three  hours 
before  he  met  anybody  else  in  the  road.  Then  he  saw 
two  men  riding  toward  him,  but  he  could  not  tell  much 
about  them  as  they  were  wrapped  in  heavy  gray 
shawls,  and  wore  broad  brimmed  felt  hats,  pulled  well 
down  over  their  foreheads. 

Dick  knew  that  he  could  not  exercise  too  much  cau- 
tion in  this  debatable  land,  and  his  right  hand  dropped 
cautiously  to  the  butt  of  his  pistol  in  such  a  manner 
that  it  was  concealed  by  his  heavy  overcoat.  His  left 
hand  rested  lightly  on  the  reins  as  he  rode  forward 
at  an  even  pace.  But  he  did  not  fail  to  take  careful 
note  of  the  two  men  who  were  now  examining  him 
in  a  manner  that  he  did  not  like. 

Dick  saw  that  the  strangers  openly  carried  pistols 
in  their  belts,  which  was  not  of  overwhelming  signifi- 
cance in  such  times  in  such  a  region,  but  they  did  not 
have  the  look  of  mountaineers  riding  on  peaceful  busi- 
ness, and  he  reined  his  horse  to  the  very  edge  of  the 
road  that  he  might  pass  them. 

He  noted  with  rising  apprehension  that  they  checked 
the  pace  of  their  horses  as  they  approached,  and  that 
they  reined  to  either  side  of  the  road  to  compel  him 
to  go  between  them.  But  he  pulled  his  own  horse  out 

133 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

still  further,  and  as  they  could  not  pass  on  both  sides 
of  him  without  an  overt  act  of  hostility  they  drew  to- 
gether again  in  the  middle  of  the  road. 

"Mornin'  stranger,"  they  said  together,  when  they 
were  a  few  yards  away. 

"Good  morning,"  said  Dick,  riding  straight  on, 
without  checking  his  speed.  But  one  of  the  men  drew 
his  horse  across  the  road  and  said : 

"What's  your  hurry?  It  ain't  friendly  to  ride  by 
without  passin'  the  time  o'  day." 

Now  at  close  range,  Dick  liked  their  looks  less  than 
ever.  They  might  be  members  of  that  very  band  of 
Skelly's  which  had  already  made  so  much  trouble  for 
both  sides,  and  he  summoned  all  his  faculties  in  order 
to  meet  them  at  any  game  that  they  might  try  to 
play. 

"I've  been  on  land  business  in  the  mountains,"  he 
said,  "and  I'm  anxious  to  get  back  to  my  home.  Be- 
sides the  day  is  very  cold,  and  the  two  facts  deprive 
me  of  the  pleasure  of  a  long  conversation  with  you, 
gentlemen.  Good-day." 

"Wait  just  a  little,"  said  the  spokesman,  who  still 
kept  his  horse  reined  across  the  road.  "These  be  war 
times  an'  it's  important  to  know  what  a  fellow  is.  Be 
you  for  the  Union  or  are  you  'with  the  Secesh  ?" 

Dick  was  quite  sure  that  whatever  he  answered  they 
would  immediately  claim  to  be  on  the  opposite  side. 
Then  would  follow  robbery  and  perhaps  murder. 

"Which  is  your  side?"  he  asked. 

"But  we  put  the  question  first,"  the  fellow  replied. 

Dick  no  longer  had  any  doubts.     The  second  man 


THE    MESSENGER 

was  drawing  his  horse  up  by  the  side  of  him,  as  if  to 
seize  him,  while  the  first  continued  to  bar  the  way. 
He  was  alarmed,  deeply  alarmed,  but  he  lost  neither 
his  courage  nor  his  presence  of  mind.  Luckily  he  had 
already  summoned  every  faculty  for  instant  action, 
and  now  he  acted.  He  uttered  a  sudden  shout,  and 
raked  the  side  of  his  horse  with  both  spurs. 

His  horse  was  not  only  large  and  powerful  but  of 
a  most  high  spirit.  When  he  heard  that  shout  and  felt 
the  burning  slash  of  the  spurs  he  made  a  blind  but 
mighty  leap  forward.  The  horse  of  the  first  stranger, 
smitten  by  so  great  a  weight,  fell  in  the  road  and  his 
rider  went  down  with  him.  The  enraged  horse  then 
leaped  clear  of  both  and  darted  forward  at  headlong 
speed. 

As  his  horse  sprang  Dick  threw  himself  flat  upon 
his  neck,  and  the  bullet  that  the  second  man  fired 
whistled  over  his  head.  By  impulse  he  drew  his  own 
pistol  and  fired  back.  He  saw  the  man's  pistol  arm 
fall  as  if  broken,  and  he  heard  a  loud  cry.  That  was 
a  lucky  shot  indeed,  and  rising  a  little  in  his  saddle 
he  shouted  again  and  again  to  the  great  horse  that 
served  him  so  well. 

The  gallant  animal  responded  in  full.  He  stretched 
out  his  long  neck  and  the  road  flew  fast  behind  him. 
Sparks  flashed  from  the  stones  where  the  shod  hoofs 
struck,  and  Dick  exulting  felt  the  cold  air  rush  past. 
Another  shot  was  fired  at  long  range,  but  the  bullet 
did  not  strike  anywhere  near. 

Dick  took  only  a  single  backward  glance.  He  saw 
the  two  men  on  their  horses,  but  drooping  as  if  weak 

135 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

from  hurts,  and  he  knew  that  for  the  present  at  least 
he  was  safe  from  any  hurt  from  them.  But  he 
allowed  his  horse  his  head  for  a  long  time,  and  then 
he  gradually  slowed  him  down.  No  human  being  was 
in  sight  now  and  he  spoke  to  the  noble  animal  sooth- 
ingly. 

"Good  old  boy,"  he  said;  "the  strongest,  the  swift- 
est, the  bravest,  and  the  truest.  I  was  sorry  to  make 
those  red  stripes  on  your  sides,  but  it  had  to  be  done. 
Only  quickness  saved  us." 

The  horse  neighed.  He  was  still  quivering  from 
excitement  and  exertion.  So  was  Dick  for  that  mat- 
ter. The  men  might  have  been  robbers  merely — they 
were  at  least  that  bad — but  they  might  have  deprived 
him  also  of  his  precious  dispatch.  He  was  proud  of 
the  confidence  put  in  him  by  General  Thomas,  and  he 
meant  to  deserve  it.  It  was  this  sense  of  responsibility 
and  pride  that  had  attuned  his  faculties  to  so  high  a 
pitch  and  that  had  made  his  action  so  swift,  sudden 
and  decisive. 

But  he  steadied  himself  presently.  The  victory,  for 
victory  it  certainly  was,  increased  his  strength  and 
confidence.  He  stopped  soon  at  a  brook — they  seemed 
to  occur  every  mile — and  bathed  with  cold  water  the 
red  streaks  his  spurs  had  made  on  either  side  of  his 
horse.  Again  he  spoke  soothing  words  and  regretted 
the  necessity  that  had  caused  him  to  make  such 
wounds,  slight  though  they  were. 

He  also  bathed  his  own  face  and  hands  and,  as  it 
was  now  about  noon,  ate  of  the  cold  ham  and  bread 
that  he  carried  in  his  knapsack,  meanwhile  keeping 

136 


THE    MESSENGER 

constant  watch  on  the  road  over  which  he  had  come. 
But  he  did  not  believe  that  the  men  would  pursue,  and 
he  saw  no  sign  of  them.  Mounting  again  he  rode 
forward. 

The  remainder  of  the  afternoon  went  by  without 
interruption.  He  passed  three  or  four  people,  but 
they  were  obviously  natives  of  that  region,  and  they 
asked  him  only  innocent  questions.  The  wintry  day 
was  short,  and  the  twilight  was  soon  at  hand.  He 
was  riding  over  one  of  the  bare  ridges,  when  first 
he  noticed  how  late  the  day  had  grown.  All  the  sky 
was  gray  and  chill  and  the  cold  sun  was  setting  behind 
the  western  mountains.  A  breeze  sprang  up,  rustling 
among  the  leafless  branches,  and  Dick  shivered  in  the 
saddle.  A  new  necessity  was  pressed  suddenly  upon 
him.  He  must  find  shelter  for  the  night.  Even  with 
his  warm  double  blankets  he  could  not  sleep  in  the 
forest  on  such  a  night.  Besides  the  horse  would  need 
food. 

He  rode  on  briskly  for  a  full  hour,  anxiously  watch- 
ing both  sides  of  the  road  for  a  cabin  or  cabin  smoke. 
By  that  time  night  had  come  fully,  though  fortunately 
it  was  clear  but  very  cold.  He  saw  then  on  the  right 
a  faint  coil  of  smoke  rising  against  the  dusky  sky  and 
he  rode  straight  for  it 

The  smoke  came  from  a  strong  double  cabin,  stand- 
ing about  four  hundred  yards  from  the  road,  and 
the  sight  of  the  heavy  log  walls  made  Dick  all  the 
more  anxious  to  get  inside  them.  The  cold  had  grown 
bitter  and  even  his  horse  shivered. 

As  he  approached  two  yellow  curs  rushed  forth  and 

137 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

began  to  bark  furiously,  snapping  at  the  horse's  heels, 
the  usual  mountain  welcome.  But  when  a  kick  from 
the  horse  grazed  the  ear  of  one  of  them  they  kept  at 
a  respectful  distance. 

"Hello!    Hello!"  called  Dick  loudly. 

This  also  was  the  usual  mountain  notification  that 
a  guest  had  come,  and  the  heavy  board  door  of  the 
house  opened  inward.  A  man,  elderly,  but  dark  and 
strong,  with  the  high  cheek  bones  of  an  Indian  stood 
in  the  door,  the  light  of  a  fire  blazing  in  the  fireplace 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  wall  throwing  him  in  re- 
lief. His  hair  was  coal  black,  long  and  coarse,  in- 
creasing his  resemblance  to  an  Indian. 

Dick  rode  close  to  the  door,  and,  without  hesitation, 
asked  for  a  night's  shelter  and  food.  This  was  his 
inalienable  right  in  the  hills  or  mountains  of  his  state, 
and  he  would  be  a  strange  man  indeed  who  would 
refuse  it. 

The  man  sharply  bade  the  dogs  be  silent  and  they 
retreated  behind  the  house,  their  tails  drooping.  Then 
he  said  to  Dick  in  a  tone  that  was  not  without  hos- 
pitality : 

"  'Light,  stranger,  an'  we'll  put  up  your  horse. 
Mandy  will  have  supper  ready  by  the  time  we  finish 
the  job." 

Dick  sprang  down  gladly,  but  staggered  a  little  at 
first  from  the  stiffness  of  his  legs. 

"You've  rid  far,  stranger,"  said  the  man,  who  Dick 
knew  at  once  had  a  keen  eye  and  a  keen  brain,  "an* 
you're  young,  too." 

"But  not  younger  than  many  who  have  gone  to  the 

'38 ' 


THE    MESSENGER 

war,"  replied  Dick.  "In  fact,  you  see  many  who  are 
not  older  than  fifteen  or  sixteen." 

He  had  spoken  hastily  and  incautiously  and  he  real- 
ized it  at  once.  The  man's  keen  gaze  was  turned  upon 
him  again. 

"You've  seen  the  armies,  then?"  he  said.  "Mebbe 
you're  a  sojer  yourself?" 

"I've  been  in  the  mountains,  looking  after  some  land 
that  belongs  to  my  family,"  said  Dick.  My  name  is 
Mason,  Richard  Mason,  and  I  live  near  Pendleton, 
which  is  something  like  a  hundred  miles  from  here." 

He  deemed  it  best  to  give  his  right  name,  as  it 
would  have  no  significance  there. 

"You  must  have  seen  armies,"  persisted  the  man, 
"or  you  wouldn't  hev  knowed  'bout  so  many  boys  of 
fifteen  or  sixteen  bein'  in  them." 

"I  saw  both  the  Federal  and  Confederate  armies  in 
Eastern  Kentucky.  My  business  took  me  near  them, 
but  I  was  always  glad  to  get  away  from  them,  too." 

"I  heard  tell  today  that  there  was  a  big  battle." 

"You  heard  right.  It  was  fought  near  a  little  place 
called  Mill  Spring,  and  resulted  in  a  complete  victory 
for  the  Northern  forces  under  General  Thomas." 

"That  was  what  I  heard.  It  will  be  good  news  to 
some,  an'  bad  news  to  others.  Tears  to  me,  Mr. 
Mason,  that  you  can't  fight  a  battle  that  will  suit 
everybody." 

"I  never  heard  of  one  that  did." 

"An'  never  will,  I  reckon.  Mighty  good  hoss  that 
you're  ridin'.  I  never  seed  one  with  better  shoulders. 
My  name's  Leffingwell,  Seth  Leffingwell,  an'  I  live 

139 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

here  alone,  'ceptin'  my  old  woman,  Mandy.  All  we 
ask  of  people  is  to  let  us  be.  Lots  of  us  in  the  moun- 
tain feel  that  way.  Let  them  lowlanders  shoot  one 
another  up  ez  long  ez  they  please,  but  up  here  there 
ain't  no  slaves,  an'  there  ain't  nothin'  else  to  fight 
about." 

The  stable  was  a  good  one,  better  than  usual  in 
that  country.  Dick  saw  stalls  for  four  horses,  but  no 
horses.  They  put  his  own  horse  in  one  of  the  stalls, 
and  gave  him  corn  and  hay.  Then  they  walked  back 
to  the  house,  and  entered  a  large  room,  where  a  stal- 
wart woman  of  middle  age  had  just  finished  cooking 
supper. 

"Whew,  but  the  night's  goin'  to  be  cold,"  said 
Leffingwell,  as  he  shut  the  door  behind  them,  and  cut 
off  an  icy  blast.  "It'll  make  the  fire  an'  supper  all 
the  better.  We're  just  plain  mountain  people,  but 
you're  welcome  to  the  best  we  have.  Ma,  this  is  Mr. 
Mason,  who  has  been  on  Ian'  business  in  the  moun- 
tains, an'  is  back  on  his  way  to  his  home  at  Pendleton." 

Lemngwell's  wife,  a  powerful  woman,  as  large  as 
her  husband,  and  with  a  pleasant  face,  gave  Dick  a 
large  hand  and  a  friendly  grasp. 

"It's  a  good  night  to  be  indoors,"  she  said.  "Sup- 
per's ready,  Seth.  Will  you  an'  the  stranger  set?" 

She  had  placed  the  pine  table  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  Dick  noticed  that  it  was  large  enough  for 
five  or  six  persons.  He  put  his  saddle  bags  and  blank- 
ets in  a  corner  and  he  and  the  man  drew  up  chairs. 

He  had  seldom  beheld  a  more  cheerful  scene.  In 
a  great  fireplace  ten  feet  wide  big  logs  roared  and 

140 


THE   MESSENGER 

crackled.  Corn  cakes,  vegetables,  and  two  kinds  of 
meat  were  cooking  over  the  coals  and  a  great  pot  of 
coffee  boiled  and  bubbled.  No  candles  had  been 
lighted,  but  they  were  not  needed.  The  flames  gave 
sufficient  illumination. 

"Set,  young  man,"  said  Leffingwell  heartily,  "an* 
see  who's  teeth  are  sharper,  yourn  or  mine." 

Dick  sat  down  gladly,  and  they  fell  to.  The  woman 
alternately  waited  on  them  and  ate  with  them.  For 
a  time  the  two  masculine  human  beings  ate  and  drank 
with  so  much  vigor  that  there  was  no  time  for  talk. 
Leffingwell  was  the  first  to  break  silence. 

"I  kin  see  you  growin',"  he  said. 

"Growing?" 

"Yes,  growin1,  you're  eatin'  so  much,  you're  en- 
joyin'  it  so  much,  an'  you're  digestin'  it  so  fast.  You 
are  already  taller  than  you  was  when  you  set,  an' 
you're  broader  'cross  the  chest.  No,  'tain't  wuth  while 
to  'pologize.  You've  got  a  right  to  be  hungry,  an* 
you  mustn't  forget  Ma's  cookin'  either.  She's  never 
had  her  beat  in  all  these  mountains." 

"Shut  up,  Seth,"  said  Mrs.  Leffingwell,  genially, 
"you'll  make  the  young  stranger  think  you're  plum* 
foolish,  which  won't  be  wide  of  the  mark  either." 

"I'm  grateful,"  said  Dick  falling  into  the  spirit  of 
it,  "but  what  pains  me,  Mrs.  Leffingwell,  is  the  fact 
that  Mr.  Leffingwell  will  only  nibble  at  your  food.  I 
don't  understand  it,  as  he  looks  like  a  healthy  man." 

"  'Twouldn't  do  for  me  to  be  too  hearty,"  said  Lef- 
fingwell, "or  I'd  keep  Mandy  here  cookin'  all  the 
time." 

141 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

They  seemed  pleasant  people  to  Dick,  good,  honest 
mountain  types,  and  he  was  glad  that  he  had  found 
their  house.  The  room  in  which  they  sat  was  large,  , 
apparently  used  for  all  purposes,  kitchen,  dining-room, 
sitting-room,  and  bedroom.  An  old-fashioned  squir- 
rel rifle  lay  on  hooks  projecting  from  the  wall,  but 
there  was  no  other  sign  of  a  weapon.  There  was  a 
bed  at  one  end  of  the  room  and  another  at  the  other, 
which  could  be  hidden  by  a  rough  woolen  curtain 
running  on  a  cord.  Dick  surmised  that  this  bed  would 
be  assigned  to  him. 

Their  appetites  grew  lax  and  finally  ceased.  Then 
Leffingwell  yawned  and  stretched  his  arms. 

"Stranger,"  he  said,  "we  rise  early  an'  go  to  bed 
early  in  these  parts.  Thar  ain't  nothin'  to  keep  us  up 
in  the  evenin's,  an'  as  you've  had  a  hard,  long  ride  I 
guess  you're  just  achin'  fur  sleep." 

Dick,  although  he  had  been  unwilling  to  say  so,  was 
in  fact  very  sleepy.  The  heavy  supper  and  the  heat  of 
the  room  pulled  so  hard  on  his  eyelids  that  he  could 
scarcely  keep  them  up.  He  murmured  his  excuses  and 
said  he  believed  he  would  like  to  retire. 

"Don't  you  be  bashful  about  say  in'  so,"  exclaimed 
Leffingwell  heartily,  "  'cause  I  don't  think  I  could  .keep 
up  more'n  a  half  hour  longer." 

Mrs.  Leffingwell  drew  the  curtain  shutting  off  one 
bed  and  a  small  space  around  it.  Dick,  used  to  primi- 
tive customs,  said  good-night  and  retired  within  his 
alcove,  taking  his  saddle  bags.  There  was  a  small  win- 
dow near  the  foot  of  the  room,  and  when  he  noticed 
it  he  resolved  to  let  in  a  little  air  later  on.  The  moun- 

142 


THE    MESSENGER 

taineers  liked  hot  rooms  all  the  time,  but  he  did  not. 
This  window  contained  no  glass,  but  was  closed  with 
a  broad  shutter. 

The  boy  undressed  and  got  into  bed,  placing  his 
saddle  bags  on  the  foot  of  it,  and  the  pistol  that  he 
carried  in  his  belt  under  his  head.  He  fell  asleep  al- 
most immediately  and  had  he  been  asked  beforehand 
he  would  have  said  that  nothing  could  awake  him  be- 
fore morning.  Nevertheless  he  awoke  before  mid- 
night, and  it  was  a  very  slight  thing  that  caused  him 
to  come  out  of  sleep.  Despite  the  languor  produced 
by  food  and  heat  a  certain  nervous  apprehension  had 
been  at  work  in  the  boy's  mind,  and  it  followed  him 
into  the  unknown  regions  of  sleep.  His  body  was 
dead  for  a  time  and  his  mind  too,  but  this  nervous 
power  worked  on,  almost  independently  of  him.  It 
had  noted  the  sound  of  voices  nearby,  and  awak- 
ened him,  as  if  he  had  been  shaken  by  a  rough 
hand. 

He  sat  up  in  his  bed  and  became  conscious  of  a  hot 
and  aching  head.  Then  he  remembered  the  window, 
and  softly  drawing  two  pegs  that  fastened  it  in  order 
that  he  might  not  awaken  his  good  hosts,  he  opened 
it  inward  a  few  inches. 

The  cold  air  poured  in  at  the  crevice  and  felt  like 
heaven  on  his  face.  His  temples  quit  throbbing  and 
his  head  ceased  to  ache.  He  had  not  noticed  at  first 
the  cause  that  really  awakened  him,  but  as  he  settled 
back  into  bed,  grateful  for  the  fresh  air,  the  same 
mysterious  power  gave  him  a  second  warning  signal. 

He  heard  the  hum  of  voices  and  sat  up  again.  It 

143 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

was  merely  the  Leffingwells  in  the  bed  at  the  far  end 
of  the  room,  talking !  Perhaps  he  had  not  been  asleep 
more  than  an  hour,  and  it  was  natural  that  they  should 
lie  awake  a  while,  talking  about  the  coming  of  this 
young  stranger  or  any  other  event  of  the  day  that 
interested  them.  Then  he  caught  a  tone  or  an  inflec- 
tion that  he  did  not  remember  to  have  been  used  by 
either  of  the  Leffingwells.  A  third  signal  of  alarm 
was  promptly  registered  on  his  brain. 

He  leaned  from  the  bed  and  pulling  aside  the  cur- 
tain a  half  an  inch  or  so,  looked  into  the  room.  The 
fire  had  died  down  except  a  few  coals  which  cast  but 
a  faint  light.  Yet  it  was  sufficient  to  show  Dick  that 
the  two  Leffingwells  had  not  gone  to  bed.  They  were 
sitting  fully  clothed  before  the  fireplace,  and  three 
other  persons  were  with  them. 

As  Dick  stared  his  eyes  grew  more  used  to  the  half 
dusk  and  he  saw  clearly.  The  three  strangers  were 
young  men,  all  armed  heavily,  and  the  resemblance  of 
two  of  them  to  the  Leffingwells  was  so  striking  that 
he  had  no  doubt  they  were  their  sons.  Now  he  un- 
derstood about  those  empty  stalls.  The  third  man, 
who  had  been  sitting  with  his  shoulder  toward  Dick, 
turned  his  face  presently,  and  the  boy  with  difficulty 
repressed  an  exclamation.  It  was  the  one  who  had 
reined  his  horse  across  the  road  to  stop  him.  A 
fourth  and  conclusive  signal  of  alarm  was  registered 
upon  his  brain. 

He  began  to  dress  rapidly  and  without  noise.  Mean- 
while he  listened  intently  and  could  hear  the  words 
they  spoke.  The  woman  was  pleading  with  them  to 

144 


THE    MESSENGER 

let  him  go.  He  was  only  a  harmless  lad,  and  while 
these  were  dark  days,  a  crime  committed  now  might 
yet  be  punished. 

"A  harmless  boy,"  said  the  strange  man.  "He's 
quick,  an'  strong  enough,  I  tell  you.  You  should  have 
seen  how  he  rode  me  down,  and  then  shot  Gannon  in 
the  arm." 

"I'd  like  to  have  that  hoss  of  his,"  said  the  elder 
Leffingwell.  "He's  the  finest  brute  I  ever  laid  eyes 
on.  Sech  power  an'  sech  action.  I  noticed  him  at 
once,  when  Mason  come  ridin'  up.  S'pose  we  jest 
take  the  hoss  and  send  the  boy  on." 

"A  hoss  like  that  would  be  knowed,"  protested  the 
woman.  "What  if  sojers  come  lookin'  fur  him!" 

"We  could  run  him  off  in  the  hills  an'  keep  him 
there  a  while,"  said  Leffingwell.  "I  know  places 
where  sojers  wouldn't  find  that  hoss  in  a  thousand 
years.  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Kerins?" 

"Good  as  fur  as  it  goes,"  replied  Kerins,  "but  it 
don't  go  fur  enough  by  a  long  shot.  The  Yanks 
whipped  the  Johnnies  in  a  big  battle  at  Mill  Spring. 
Me  an'  my  pardners  have  been  hangin'  'roun'  in  the 
woods,  seein'  what  would  happen.  Now,  we  know 
that  this  boy  rode  straight  from  the  tent  of  General 
Thomas  hisself.  He's  a  Union  sojer,  an'  young  as 
he  is,  he's  an  officer.  He  wouldn't  be  sent  out  by 
General  Thomas  hisself  'less  it  was  on  big  business. 
He's  got  messages,  dispatches  of  some  kind  that  are 
worth  a  heap  to  somebody.  With  all  the  armies  gath- 
erin'  in  the  south  an'  west  of  the  state  it  stands  to 
reason  that  them  dispatches  mean  a  lot.  Now,  we've 

145 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

got  to  get  'em  an'  get  the  full  worth  of  'em  from 
them  to  whom  they're  worth  the  most." 

"He's  got  a  pistol,"  said  the  elder  Leffingwell,  "I 
seed  it  in  his  belt.  If  he  wakes  before  we  grab  him 
he'll  shoot." 

The  man  Kerins  laughed. 

"He'll  never  get  a  chance  to  shoot,"  he  said.  "Why, 
after  all  he  went  through  today,  he'll  sleep  like  a  log 
till  mornin'." 

"That's  so,"  said  one  of  the  young  Leffingwells, 
"an'  Kerins  is  right.  We  ought  to  grab  them  dis- 
patches. Likely  in  one  way  or  another  we  kin  git 
a  heap  fur  'em." 

"Shut  up,  Jim,  you  fool,"  said  his  mother  sharply. 
"Do  you  want  murder  on  your  hands  ?  Stealin'  hosses 
is  bad  enough,  but  if  that  boy  has  got  the  big  dis- 
patches you  say  he  has,  an'  he's  missin',  don't  you 
think  that  sojers  will  come  after  him?  An'  they'll 
trace  him  to  this  house,  an'  I  tell  you  that  in  war 
trials  don't  last  long.  Besides,  he's  a  nice  boy  an'  he 
spoke  nice  all  the  time  to  pap  an'  me." 

But  her  words  did  not  seem  to  make  any  impression 
upon  the  others,  except  her  husband,  who  protested 
again  that  it  would  be  enough  to  take  the  horse.  As 
for  the  dispatches  it  wasn't  wise  for  them  to  fool  with 
such  things.  But  Kerins  insisted  on  going  the  whole 
route  and  the  young  Leffingwells  were  with  him. 

Meanwhile  Dick  had  dressed  with  more  rapidity 
than  ever  before  in  his  life,  fully  alive  to  the  great 
dangers  that  threatened.  But  his  fear  was  greatest 
lest  he  might  lose  the  precious  dispatches  that  he  bore. 

146 


THE    MESSENGER 

For  a  few  moments  he  did  not  know  what  to  do.  He 
might  take  his  pistols  and  fight,  but  he  could  not  fight 
them  all  with  success.  Then  that  pleasant  flood  of 
cold  air  gave  him  the  key. 

While  they  were  still  talking  he  put  his  saddle  bags 
over  his  arm,  opened  the  shutter  its  full  width,  and 
dropped  quietly  to  the  ground  outside,  remembering 
to  take  the  precaution  of  closing  the  shutter  behind 
him,  lest  the  sudden  inrush  of  cold  startle  the  Lefiing- 
wells  and  their  friends. 

It  was  an  icy  night,  but  Dick  did  not  stop  to  notice 
it.  He  ran  to  the  stable,  saddled  and  bridled  his  horse 
in  two  minutes,  and  in  another  minute  was  flying  west- 
ward over  the  flinty  road,  careless  whether  or  not  they 
heard  the  beat  of  his  horse's  hoofs. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

A  MEETING  AT  NIGHT 

DICK  heard  above  the  thundering  hoofbeats 
only  a  single  shout,  and  then,  as  he  glanced 
backward,  the  house  was  lost  in  the  moonlight. 
iWhen  he  secured  his  own  horse  he  had  noticed  that 
all  the  empty  stalls  were  now  rilled,  no  doubt  by  the 
horses  of  the  young  Leffingwells  and  Kerins,  but  he 
was  secure  in  his  confidence  that  none  could  overtake 
the  one  he  rode. 

He  felt  of  that  inside  pocket  of  his  vest.  The  pre- 
cious dispatch  was  there,  tightly  pinned  into  its  hidden 
refuge,  and  as  for  himself,  refreshed,  warm,  and 
strong  after  food,  rest,  and  sleep,  he  felt  equal  to  any 
emergency.  He  had  everything  with  him.  The  stout 
saddle  bags  were  lying  across  the  saddle.  He  had 
thrust  the  holster  of  pistols  into  them,  but  he  took  it 
out  now,  and  hung  it  in  its  own  place,  also  across  the 
saddle. 

Although  he  was  quite  sure  there  would  be  no 
pursuit — the  elder  Leffingwells  would  certainly  keep 
their  sons  from  joining  it — he  sent  his  great  horse 
straight  ahead  at  a  good  pace  for  a  long  time,  the 

148 


A   MEETING   AT    NIGHT 

road  being  fairly  good.  His  excitement  and  rapid 
motion  kept  him  from  noticing  at  first  the  great  bit- 
terness of  the  cold. 

When  he  had  gone  five  or  six  miles  he  drew  his 
horse  down  to  a  walk.  Then,  feeling  the  intensity  of 
the  cold  as  the  mercury  was  far  below  zero,  he  dis- 
mounted, looped  the  reins  over  his  arms,  and  walked 
a  while.  For  further  precaution  he  took  his  blanket- 
roll  and  wrapped  the  two  blankets  about  his  body, 
especially  protecting  his  neck  and  ears. 

He  found  that  the  walking,  besides  keeping  him 
warmer,  took  all  the  stiffness  out  of  his  muscles,  and 
he  continued  on  foot  several  miles.  He  passed  two 
brooks  and  a  creek,  all  frozen  over  so  solidly  that  the 
horse  passed  on  them  without  breaking  the  ice.  It 
was  an  extremely  difficult  task  to  make  the  animal 
try  the  ice,  but  after  much  delicate  coaxing  and  urging 
he  always  succeeded. 

He  saw  two  more  cabins  at  the  roadside,  but  he  did 
not  think  of  asking  hospitality  at  either.  The  night 
was  now  far  advanced  and  he  wished  to  put  many 
more  miles  between  him  and  the  Leffingwell  home 
before  he  sought  rest  again. 

He  mounted  his  horse  once  more,  and  increased  his 
speed.  Now  the  reaction  came  after  so  much  exertion 
and  excitement.  He  began  to  feel  depressed.  He  was 
very  young  and  he  had  no  comrade.  The  loneliness 
of  the  winter  night  in  a  country  full  of  dangers  was 
appalling.  It  seemed  to  him,  as  his  heart  sank,  that 
all  things  had  conspired  against  him.  But  the  moment 
of  despair  was  brief.  He  summoned  his  courage 

149 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

anew  and  rode  on  bravely,  although  the  sense  of  lone- 
liness in  its  full  power  remained. 

The  moonlight  was  quite  bright.  The  sky  was  a 
deep  silky  blue,  in  which  myriads  of  cold  stars  shone 
and  danced.  By  and  by  he  skirted  for  a  while  the 
banks  of  a  small  river,  which  he  knew  flowed  south- 
ward into  the  Cumberland,  and  which  would  not  cross 
his  path.  The  rays  of  the  moonlight  on  its  frozen 
surface  looked  like  darts  of  cold  steel. 

He  left  the  river  presently  and  the  road  bent  a  little 
toward  the  north.  Then  the  skies  darkened  somewhat 
but  lightened  again  as  the  dawn  began  to  come.  The 
red  but  cold  edge  of  the  sun  appeared  above  the  moun- 
tains that  he  had  left  behind,  and  then  the  morning 
came,  pale  and  cold. 

Dick  stopped  at  a  little  brook,  broke  the  ice  and 
drank,  letting  his  horse  drink  after  him.  Then  he  ate 
heartily  of  the  cold  bread  and  meat  in  his  knapsack. 
Pitying  his  horse  he  searched  until  he  found  a  little 
grass  not  yet  killed  by  winter  in  the  lee  of  the  hill, 
and  waited  until  he  cropped  it  all. 

He  mounted  and  resumed  his  journey  through  a 
country  in  which  the  hills  were  steadily  becoming 
lower,  with  larger  stretches  of  level  land  appearing 
between  them.  By  night  he  should  be  beyond  the 
last  low  swell  of  the  mountains  and  into  the  hill  re- 
gion proper.  As  he  calculated  distances  his  heart  gave 
a  great  thump.  He  was  to  locate  Buell  some  distance 
north  of  Green  River,  and  his  journey  would  take  him 
close  to  Pendleton. 

The  boy  was  torn  by  great  and  conflicting  emotions. 
150 


A   MEETING   AT    NIGHT 

He  would  carry  out  with  his  life  the  task  that  Thomas 
had  assigned  to  him,  and  yet  he  wished  to  stop  near 
Pendleton,  if  only  for  an  hour. 

Yes  an  hour  would  do !  And  it  could  not  interfere 
with  his  duty !  But  Pendleton  was  a  Southern  strong- 
hold. Everybody  there  knew  him,  and  they  all  knew, 
too,  that  he  was  in  the  service  of  the  North.  How 
could  he  pass  by  without  being  seen  and  what  might 
happen  then?  The  terrible  conflict  went  on  in  his 
mind,  and  it  was  stilled  only  when  he  decided  to  leave 
it  to  time  and  chance. 

He  rode  that  day  almost  without  interruption,  se- 
curing an  ample  dinner,  where  no  one  chose  to  ask 
questions,  accepting  him  at  his  own  statement  of  him- 
self and  probably  believing  it.  He  heard  that  a  small 
Southern  force  was  to  the  southward,  probably  march- 
ing toward  Bowling  Green,  where  a  great  Confeder- 
ate army  under  Albert  Sidney  Johnston  was  said 
to  be  concentrated.  But  the  news  gave  him  no  alarm. 
His  own  road  was  still  leading  west  slightly  by 
north. 

When  night  came  he  was  in  the  pleasant  and  fertile 
hill  country,  dotted  with  double  brick  houses,  and 
others  of  wood,  all  with  wide  porticos,  supported  by 
white  pillars.  It  looked  smiling  and  prosperous  even 
in  winter.  The  war  had  done  no  ravages  here,  and 
he  saw  men  at  work  about  the  great  barns. 

He  slept  in  the  house  of  a  big  farmer,  who  liked 
the  frank  voice  and  eyes  of  the  lad,  and  who  cared 
nothing  for  any  errand  upon  which  he  might  be  riding. 
He  slept,  too,  without  dreams,  and  without  awakening 


until  the  morning,  when  he  shared  a  solid  breakfast 
with  the  family. 

Dick  obtained  at  the  farmhouse  a  fresh  supply  of 
cold  food  for  his  saddle  bags,  to  be  held  against  an 
emergency,  although  it  was  likely  now  that  he  could 
obtain  all  he  needed  at  houses  as  he  passed.  Receiv- 
ing the  good  wishes  of  his  hosts  he  rode  on  through 
the  hills.  The  intense  cold  which  kept  troops  from 
marching  much  really  served  him,  as  the  detachments 
about  the  little  towns  stayed  in  their  camps. 

The  day  was  quite  clear,  with  the  mercury  still  well 
below  zero,  but  his  heavy  clothing  kept  him  warm  and 
comfortable.  His  great  horse  showed  no  signs  of 
weariness.  Apparently  his  sinews  were  made  of 
steel. 

Noon  came,  but  Dick  did  not  seek  any  farmhouse 
for  what  was  called  dinner  in  that  region.  Instead 
he  ate  from  his  saddle  bags  as  he  rode  on.  He  did 
not  wish  to  waste  time,  and,  moreover,  he  had  taken 
his  resolution.  He  would  go  near  Pendleton.  It  was 
on  his  most  direct  route,  but  he  would  pass  in  the 
night. 

As  the  cold  twilight  descended  he  came  into  familiar 
regions.  Like  all  other  young  Kentuckians  he  was  a 
great  horseman,  and  with  Harry  Kenton  and  other 
lads  of  his  age  he  had  ridden  nearly  everywhere  in  a 
circuit  of  thirty  miles  around  Pendleton. 

It  was  with  many  a  throb  of  the  heart  that  he  now 
recognized  familiar  scenes.  He  knew  the  fields,  the 
forests  and  the  houses.  But  he  was  glad  that  the 
night  had  come.  Others  would  know  him,  and  he  did 

152 


A   MEETING   AT   NIGHT 

not  wish  to  be  seen  when  he  rode  on  such  an  errand. 
He  had  been  saving  his  horse  in  the  afternoon,  but  now 
he  pushed  him  forward  at  a  much  faster  gait.  The 
great  horse  responded  willingly  and  Dick  felt  the 
powerful  body  working  beneath  him,  smooth  and 
tireless  like  a  perfect  machine. 

He  passed  nobody  on  the  road.  People  hugged 
their  fires  on  such  a  cold  night,  and  he  rode  hour  after 
hour  without  interruption.  It  was  nearly  midnight 
when  he  stopped  on  a  high  hill,  free  of  forest,  and 
looked  down  upon  Pendleton.  The  wonderful  clear- 
ness of  the  winter  night  helped  him.  All  the  stars 
known  to  man  were  out,  and  helped  to  illuminate  the 
world  with  a  clear  but  cold  radiance. 

Although  a  long  distance  away  Dick  could  see  Pen- 
dleton clearly.  There  was  no  foliage  on  the  trees  now, 
and  nearly  every  house  was  visible.  The  great  pulse 
in  his  throat  throbbed  hard  as  he  looked.  He  saw 
the  steeples  of  the  churches,  the  white  pillars  of  the 
court  house,  and  off  to  one  side  the  academy  in  which 
he  and  Harry  Kenton  had  gone  to  school  together. 
He  saw  further  away  Colonel  Kenton's  own  house  on 
another  hill.  It,  too,  had  porticos,  supported  by  white 
pillars  which  gleamed  in  the  moonlight. 

Then  his  eyes  traveled  again  around  the  half  circle 
before  him.  The  place  for  which  he  was  looking  could 
not  be  seen.  But  he  knew  that  it  would  be  so.  It 
was  a  low  house,  and  the  evergreens  about  it,  the  pines 
and  cedars  would  hide  it  at  any  time.  But  he  knew 
the  exact  spot,  and  he  wanted  his  eyes  to  linger  there 
a  little  before  he  rode  straight  for  it. 

153 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Now  the  great  pulse  in  his  throat  leaped,  and  some- 
thing like  a  sob  came  from  him.  But  it  was  not  a 
sob  of  unhappiness.  He  clucked  to  his  horse  and 
turned  from  the  main  road  into  a  narrower  one  that 
led  by  the  low  house  among  the  evergreens.  Yet  he 
was  a  boy  of  powerful  will,  and  despite  his  eagerness, 
he  restrained  his  horse  and  advanced  very  slowly. 
Sometimes  he  turned  the  animal  upon  the  dead  turf  by 
the  side  of  the  road  in  order  that  his  footsteps  might 
make  no  sound. 

He  drew  slowly  nearer,  and  when  he  saw  the  roof 
and  eaves  of  the  low  house  among  the  evergreens  the 
great  pulse  in  his  throat  leaped  so  hard  that  it  was  al- 
most unbearable.  He  reached  the  edge  of  the  lawn 
that  came  down  to  the  road,  and  hidden  by  the  clipped 
cone  of  a  pine  he  saw  a  faint  light  shining. 

He  dismounted,  opened  the  gate  softly,  and  led  his 
horse  upon  the  lawn,  hitching  him  between  two  pines 
that  grew  close  together,  concealing  him  perfectly. 

"Be  quiet,  old  fellow,"  he  whispered,  stroking  the 
great  intelligent  head.  "Nobody  will  find  you  here 
and  I'll  come  back  for  you." 

The  horse  rubbed  his  nose  against  his  arm  but  made 
no  other  movement.  Then  Dick  walked  softly  toward 
the  house,  pulses  beating  hard  and  paused  just  at  the 
edge  of  a  portico,  where  he  stood  in  the  shadow  of  a 
pillar.  He  saw  the  light  clearly  now.  It  shone  from 
a  window  of  the  low  second  story.  It  came  from  her 
window  and  her  room.  Doubtless  she  was  thinking  at 
that  very  moment  of  him.  His  throat  ached  and  tears 
came  into  his  eyes.  The  light,  clear  and  red,  shone 

154 


A    MEETING   AT    NIGHT 

steadily  from  the  window  and  made  a  band  across  the 
lawn. 

He  picked  a  handful  of  sand  from  the  walk  that 
ltd  to  the  front  door  and  threw  it  against  the  window. 
He  knew  that  she  was  brave  and  would  respond,  but 
waiting  only  a  moment  or  two  he  threw  a  second  hand- 
ful fully  and  fairly  against  the  glass. 

The  lower  half  of  the  window  was  thrown  open 
and  a  head  appeared,  where  the  moonlight  fell  clearly 
upon  it.  It  was  the  head  of  a  beautiful  woman, 
framed  in  thick,  silken  yellow  hair,  the  eyes  deep  blue, 
and  the  skin  of  the  wonderful  fairness  so  often  found 
in  that  state.  The  face  was  that  of  a  woman  about 
thirty-seven  or  eight,  years  of  age,  and  without  a 
wrinkle  or  flaw. 

"Mother !"  called  Dick  in  a  low  voice  as  he  stepped 
from  the  shadow  of  the  pillar. 

There  was  a  cry  and  the  face  disappeared  like  a 
flash  from  the  window.  But  he  had  only  a  few  mo- 
ments to  wait.  Her  swift  feet  brought  her  from  the 
room,  down  the  stairway,  and  along  the  hall  to  the 
door,  which  she  threw  open.  The  next  instant  Mrs. 
Mason  had  her  son  in  her  arms. 

"Oh,  Dick,  Dicky,  boy,  how  did  you  come!"  she 
exclaimed.  "You  were  here  under  my  window,  and 
I  did  not  even  know  that  you  were  alive!" 

Her  tears  of  joy  fell  upon  his  face  and  he  was 
moved  profoundly.  Dick  loved  his  beautiful  young 
mother  devoutly,  and  her  widowhood  had  bound  them 
all  the  more  closely  together. 

"I've  come  a  long  distance,  and  I've  come  in  many 

155 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

ways,  mother,"  he  replied,  "by  train,  by  horseback,  and 
I  have  even  walked." 

"You  have  come  here  on  foot?" 

"No,  mother.  I  rode  directly  over  your  own  smooth 
lawn  on  one  of  the  biggest  horses  you  ever  saw,  and 
he's  tied  now  between  two  of  the  pine  trees.  Come, 
we  must  go  in  the  house.  It's  too  cold  for  you  out 
here.  Do  you  know  that  the  mercury  is  about  ten 
degrees  below  zero." 

"What  a  man  you  have  grown !  Why,  you  must  be 
two  inches  taller  than  you  were,  when  you  went  away, 
and  how  sunburned  and  weather-beaten  you  are,  too! 
Oh,  Dicky,  this  terrible,  terrible  war!  Not  a  word 
from  you  in  months  has  got  through  to  me!" 

"Nor  a  word  from  you  to  me,  mother,  but  I  have 
not  suffered  so  much  so  far.  I  was  at  Bull  Run,  where 
we  lost,  and  I  was  at  Mill  Spring,  where  we  won, 
but  I  was  unhurt." 

"Perhaps  you  have  come  back  to  stay,"  she  said 
hopefully. 

"No,  mother,  not  to  stay.  I  took  a  chance  in  com- 
ing by  here  to  see  you,  but  I  couldn't  go  on  without 
a  few  minutes.  Inside  now,  mother,  your  hands  are 
growing  cold." 

They  went  in  at  the  door,  and  closed  it  behind  them. 
But  there  was  another  faithful  soul  on  guard  that 
night.  In  the  dusky  hall  loomed  a  gigantic  black  fig- 
ure in  a  blue  checked  dress,  blue  turban  on  head. 

"Marse  Dick?"  she  said. 

"Juliana!"  he  exclaimed.  "How  did  you  know  that 
I  was  here?" 

156 


A   MEETING   AT   NIGHT 

"Ain't  I  done  heard  Miss  Em'ly  cry  out,  me  always 
sleepin'  so  light,  an'  I  hears  her  run  down  the  hall. 
An'  then  I  dresses  an*  comes  an'  sees  you  two 
through  the  crack  o'  the  do',  an'  then  I  waits  till  you 
come  in." 

Dick  gave  her  a  most  affectionate  greeting,  knowing 
that  she  was  as  true  as  steel.  She  rejoiced  in  her 
flowery  name,  as  many  other  colored  women  rejoiced 
in  theirs,  but  her  heart  inhabited  exactly  the  right  spot 
in  her  huge  anatomy.  She  drew  mother  and  son  into 
the  sitting-room,  where  low  coals  still  burned  on  the 
hearth.  Then  she  went  up  to  Mrs.  Mason's  bedroom 
and  put  out  the  light,  after  which  she  came  back  to 
the  sitting-room,  and,  standing  by  a  window  in  silence, 
watched  over  the  two  over  whom  she  had  watched 
so  long. 

"Why  is  it  that  you  can  stay  such  a  little  while?" 
asked  Mrs.  Mason. 

"Mother,"  replied  Dick  in  a  low  tone,  "General 
Thomas,  who  won  the  battle  at  Mill  Spring,  has 
trusted  me.  I  bear  a  dispatch  of  great  importance. 
It  is  to  go  to  General  Buell,  and  it  has  to  do  with  the 
gathering  of  the  Union  troops  in  the  western  and 
southern  parts  of  our  state,  and  in  Tennessee.  I  must 
get  through  with  it,  and  in  war,  mother,  time  counts 
almost  as  much  as  battles.  I  can  stop  only  a  few  min- 
utes even  for  you." 

"I  suppose  it  is  so.  But  oh,  Dicky,  won't  this  terri- 
ble war  be  over  soon?" 

"I  don't  think  so,  mother.    It's  scarcely  begun  yet." 

Mrs.  Mason  said  nothing,  but  stared  into  the  coals. 

157 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

The  great  negress,  Juliana,  standing  at  the  window, 
did  not  move. 

"I  suppose  you  are  right,  Dick,"  she  said  at  last  with 
a  sigh,  "but  it  is  awful  that  our  people  should  be 
arrayed  so  against  one  another.  There  is  your  cousin, 
Harry  Kenton,  a  good  boy,  too,  on  the  other  side." 

"Yes,  mother,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  at  Bull 
Run.  We  came  almost  face  to  face  in  the  smoke. 
But  it  was  only  for  an  instant.  Then  the  smoke 
rushed  in  between.  I  don't  think  anything  serious 
has  happened  to  him." 

Mrs.  Mason  shuddered. 

"I  should  mourn  him  next  to  you,"  she  said,  "and 
my  brother-in-law,  Colonel  Kenton,  has  been  very 
good.  He  left  orders  with  his  people  to  watch  over 
us  here.  Pendleton  is  strongly  Southern  as  you  know, 
but  nobody  would  do  us  any  harm,  unless  it  was  the 
rough  people  from  the  hills." 

Colonel  Kenton's  wife  had  been  Mrs.  Mason's  elder 
sister,  and  Dick,  as  he  also  sat  staring  into  the  coals, 
wondered  why  people  who  were  united  so  closely 
should  yet  be  divided  so  much. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  "when  I  came  through  the  moun- 
tains with  my  friends  we  stopped  at  a  house  in  which 
lived  an  old,  old  woman.  She  must  have  been  nearly 
a  hundred.  She  knew  your  ancestor  and  mine,  the 
famous  and  learned  Paul  Cotter,  from  whom  you  and 
I  are  descended,  and  she  also  knew  his  friend  and 
comrade,  the  mighty  scout  and  hunter,  Henry  Ware, 
who  became  the  great  governor  of  Kentucky." 

"How  strange!" 

158 


A   MEETING   AT   NIGHT 

"But  the  strangest  is  yet  to  be  told.  Harry  Kenton, 
when  he  went  east  to  join  Beauregard  before  Bull 
Run,  stopped  at  the  same  house,  and  when  she  first 
saw  him  she  only  looked  into  the  far  past.  She 
thought  it  was  Henry  Ware  himself,  and  she  saluted 
him  as  the  governor.  What  do  you  think  of  that, 
mother?" 

"It's  a  startling  coincidence." 

"But  may  it  not  be  an  omen  ?  I'm  not  superstitious, 
mother,  but  when  things  come  together  in  such  a  queer 
fashion  it's  bound  to  make  you  think.  When  Harry's 
paths  and  mine  cross  in  such  a  manner  maybe  it  means 
that  we  shall  all  come  together  again,  and  be  united 
as  we  were." 

"Maybe." 

"At  any  rate,"  said  Dick  with  a  little  laugh,  "we'll 
hope  that  it  does." 

While  the  boy  was  not  noticing  his  mother  had 
made  a  sign  to  Juliana,  who  had  crept  out  of  the  room. 
Now  she  returned,  bearing  food  upon  a  tray,  and  Dick, 
although  he  was  not  hungry,  ate  to  please  his  mother. 

"You  will  stay  until  morning?"  she  said. 

"No,  mother.  I  can't  afford  to  be  seen  here.  I 
must  leave  in  the  dark." 

"Then  until  it  is  nearly  morning." 

"Nor  that  either,  mother.  My  time  is  about  up 
already.  I  could  never  betray  the  trust  that  General 
Thomas  has  put  in  me.  My  dispatches  not  only  tell 
of  the  gathering  of  our  own  troops,  but  they  contain 
invaluable  information  concerning  the  Confederate 
concentration  which  General  Thomas  learned  from  his 

159 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

scouts  and  spies.     Mother,  I  think  a  great  battle  is 
coming  here  in  the  west." 

She  shuddered,  but  she  did  not  seek  again  to  delay 
him  in  his  duty. 

"I  am  proud,"  she  said,  "that  you  have  won  the  con- 
fidence of  your  general,  and  that  you  ride  upon  such  an 
important  errand.  I  should  have  been  glad  if  you  had 
stayed  at  home,  Dick,  but  since  you  have  chosen  to  be 
a  soldier,  I  am  rejoiced  that  you  have  risen  in  the 
esteem  of  your  officers.  Write  to  me  as  often  as 
you  can.  Maybe  none  of  your  letters  will  reach  me, 
but  at  least  start  them.  I  shall  start  mine,  too." 

"Of  course,  mother,"  said  Dick,  "and  now  it's  time 
for  me  to  ride  hard.". 

"Why,  you  have  been  here  only  a  half  hour!" 

"Nearer  an  hour,  mother,  and  on  this  journey  of 
mine  time  means  a  lot.  I  must  say  good-bye  now  to 
you  and  Juliana." 

The  two  women  followed  him  down  the  lawn  to  the 
point  where  his  horse  was  hitched  between  the  two 
big  pines.  Mrs.  Mason  patted  the  horse's  great  head 
and  murmured  to  him  to  carry  her  son  well. 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  finer  horse,  mother?"  said  Dick 
proudly.  "He's  the  very  pick  of  the  army." 

He  threw  his  arms  around  her  neck,  kissed  her  more 
than  once,  sprang  into  the  saddle  and  rode  away  in  the 
darkness. 

The  two  women,  the  black  and  the  white,  sisters 
in  grief,  and  .yet  happy  that  he  had  come,  went  slowly 
back  into  the  house  to  wait,  while  the  boy,  a  man's 
soul  in  him,  strode  on  to  war. 

160 


A    MEETING   AT    NIGHT 

Dick  was  far  from  Pendleton  when  the  dawn  broke, 
and  now  he  had  full  need  of  caution.  His  horse  was 
bearing  him  fast  into  debatable  ground,  where  every 
man  suspected  his  neighbor,  and  it  remained  for  force 
alone  to  tell  to  which  side  the  region  belonged.  But 
the  extreme  delicacy  of  the  tension  came  to  Dick's  aid. 
People  hesitated  to  ask  questions,  lest  questions  equally 
difficult  be  asked  of  them  in  return.  It  was  a  great 
time  to  mind  one's  own  business. 

He  rode  on,  fortune  with  him  for  the  present,  and 
his  course  was  still  west  slightly  by  north.  He  slept 
under  roofs,  and  he  learned  that  in  the  country  into 
which  he  had  now  come  the  Union  sympathizers  were 
more  numerous  than  the  Confederate.  The  majority 
of  the  Kentuckians,  whatever  their  personal  feelings, 
were  not  willing  to  shatter  the  republic. 

He  heard  definitely  that  here  in  the  west  the  North 
was  gathering  armies  greater  than  any  that  he  had 
supposed.  Besides  the  troops  from  the  three  states 
just  across  the  Ohio  River  the  hardy  lumbermen  and 
pioneers  were  pouring  down  from  Michigan,  Wiscon- 
sin, and  Minnesota.  Hunters  in  deerskin  suits  and 
buffalo  moccasins  had  already  come  from  the  far 
Nebraska  Territory. 

The  power  of  the  west  and  the  northwest  was 
converging  upon  his  state,  which  gave  eighty  thousand 
of  its  men  to  the  Northern  cause,  while  half  as  many, 
more  went  away  to  the  Southern  armies,  particularly 
to  the  one  under  the  brilliant  and  daring  Albert  Sidney 
Johnston,  which  hung  a  sinister  menace  before  the 
Northern  front.  One  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 

161 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

troops  sent  to  the  two  armies  by  a  state  that  contained 
but  little  more  than  a  million  people!  It  was  said  at 
the  time  that  as  Kentucky  went,  so  would  go  the  for- 
tunes of  the  Union  and  in  the  end  it  was  so. 

But  these  facts  and  reckonings  were  not  much  in 
Dick's  mind  just  then.  He  was  thinking  of  Buell's 
camp  and  of  the  message  that  he  bore.  Again  and 
again  he  felt  of  that  little  inside  pocket  of  his  vest 
to  see  that  it  was  there,  although  he  knew  that  by  no 
chance  could  he  have  lost  it 

When  he  was  within  fifteen  miles  of  Buell's  camp 
a  heavy  snow  began  to  fall.  But  he  did  not  mind  it. 
The  powerful  horse  that  had  borne  him  so  well  carried 
him  safely  on  to  his  destination,  and  before  the  sun- 
down of  that  day  the  young  messenger  was  standing 
before  General  Don  Carlos  Buell,  one  of  the  most 
puzzling  characters  whom  he  was  to  meet  in  the  whole 
course  of  the  war.  He  had  found  Thomas  a  silent 
man,  but  he  found  Buell  even  more  so.  He  received 
Dick  in  an  ordinary  tent,  thanked  him  as  he  saluted 
and  handed  him  the  dispatch,  and  then  read  General 
Thomas'  message. 

Dick  saw  before  him  a  shortish,  thickset  man,  grim 
of  feature,  who  did  not  ask  him  a  word  until  he  had 
finished  the  dispatch. 

"You  know  what  this  contains?"  he  said,  when  he 
came  to  the  end. 

"Yes,  General  Thomas  made  me  memorize  it,  that 
I  might  destroy  it  if  I  were  too  hard  pressed." 

"He  tells  us  that  Johnston  is  preparing  for  some 
great  blow  and  he  gives  the  numbers  and  present  loca- 

162 


A   MEETING   AT    NIGHT 

tion  of  the  hostile  forces.  Valuable  information  for 
us,  if  it  is  used.  You  have  done  well,  Mr.  Mason. 
To  what  force  were  you  attached?" 

"A  small  division  of  Pennsylvania  troops  under 
Major  Hertford.  They  were  to  be  sent  by  General 
Thomas  to  General  Grant  at  Cairo,  Illinois." 

"And  you  would  like  to  join  them." 

"If  you  please,  sir." 

"In  view  of  your  services  your  wish  is  granted.  It 
is  likely  that  General  Grant  will  need  all  the  men 
whom  he  can  get.  A  detachment  leaves  here  early  in 
the  morning  for  Elizabethtown,  where  it  takes  the 
train  for  Louisville,  proceeding  thence  by  water  to 
Cairo.  You  shall  go  with  these  men.  They  are  com- 
manded by  Colonel  Winchester.  You  may  go  now, 
Mr.  Mason." 

He  turned  back  to  his  papers  and  Dick,  thinking 
his  manner  somewhat  curt,  left  his  tent.  But  he  was 
pleased  to  hear  that  the  detail  was  commanded  by 
Colonel  Winchester.  Arthur  Winchester  was  a  man 
of  forty-one  or  two  who  lived  about  thirty  miles  north 
of  Pendleton.  He  was  a  great  landowner,  of  high 
character  and  pleasant  manners.  Dick  had  met  him 
frequently  in  his  childhood,  and  the  Colonel  received 
him  with  much  warmth. 

"I'm  glad  to  know,  Dick,"  he  said  familiarly,  "that 
you're  going  with  us.  I'm  fond  of  Pendleton,  and  I 
like  to  have  one  of  the  Pendleton  boys  in  my  com- 
mand. If  all  that  we  hear  of  this  man  Grant  is  true, 
we'll  see  action,  action  hot  and  continuous." 

They  rode  to  Elizabethtown,  where  Dick  was  com- 

163 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

pelled  to  leave  his  great  horse  for  Buell's  men,  and 
went  by  train  to  Louisville,  going  thence  by  steamer 
down  the  Ohio  River  to  Cairo,  at  its  junction  with  the 
Mississippi,  where  they  stood  at  last  in  the  presence 
of  that  general  whose  name  was  beginning  to  be 
known  in  the  west 


CHAPTER    IX 

TAKING  A  FORT 

DICK  was  with  Colonel  Winchester  when  he 
was  admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  general 
who  had  already  done  much  to  strengthen  the 
Union  cause  in  the  west,  and  he  found  him  the  plain- 
est and  simplest  of  men,  under  forty,  short  in  stature, 
and  careless  in  attire.  He  thanked  Colonel  Winches- 
ter for  the  reinforcement  that  he  had  brought  him, 
and  then  turned  with  some  curiosity  to  Dick. 

"So  you  were  at  the  battle  of  Mill  Spring,"  he  said. 
"It  was  hot,  was  it  not?" 

"Hot  enough  for  me,"  replied  Dick  frankly. 

Grant  laughed. 

"They  caught  a  Tartar  in  George  Thomas,"  he  said, 
"and  I  fancy  that  others  who  try  to  catch  him  will 
be  glad  enough  to  let  him  go." 

"He  is  a  great  man,  sir,"  said  Dick  with  conviction. 

Then  Grant  asked  him  more  questions  about  the 
troops  and  the  situation  in  Eastern  Kentucky,  and 
Dick  noticed  that  all  were  sharp  and  penetrating. 

"Your  former  immediate  commander,  Major  Hert- 
ford, and  some  of  his  men  are  due  here  today,"  said 

165 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Grant.  "General  Thomas,  knowing  that  his  own  cam- 
paign was  over,  sent  them  north  to  Cincinnati  and 
they  have  come  down  the  river  to  Cairo.  When  they 
reach  here  they  will  be  attached  to  the  regiment  of 
Colonel  Winchester." 

Dick  was  overjoyed.  He  had  formed  a  strong  lik- 
ing for  Major  Hertford  and  he  was  quite  sure  that 
Warner  and  Sergeant  Whitley  would  be  with  him. 
Once  more  they  would  be  reunited,  reunited  for  battle. 
He  could  not  doubt  that  they  would  go  to  speedy 
action  as  the  little  town  at  the  junction  of  the  mighty 
rivers  resounded  with  preparation. 

When  Colonel  Winchester  and  the  boy  had  saluted 
and  retired  from  General  Grant's  tent  they  saw  the 
smoke  pouring  from  the  funnels  of  numerous  steam- 
ers in  the  Mississippi,  and  they  saw  thousands  of 
troops  encamped  in  tents  along  the  shores  of  both  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi.  Heavy  cannon  were  drawn  up 
-on  the  wharves,  and  ammunition  and  supplies  were 
being  transferred  from  hundreds  of  wagons  to  the 
steamers.  It  was  evident  to  any  one  that  this  expedi- 
tion, whatever  it  might  be,  was  to  proceed  by  water. 
It  was  a  land  of  mighty  rivers,  close  together,  and  a 
steamer  might  go  anywhere. 

As  Dick  and  Colonel  Winchester,  on  whose  staff 
he  would  now  be,  were  watching  this  active  scene,  a 
small  steamer,  coming  down  the  Ohio,  drew  in  to  a 
wharf,  and  a  number  of  soldiers  in  faded  blue  dis- 
embarked. The  boy  uttered  a  shout  of  joy. 

"What  is  it,  Dick?"  asked  Colonel  Winchester. 

"Why,  sir,  there's  my  former  commander,  Colonel 
1 66 


TAKING    A    FORT 

Newcomb,  and  just  behind  him  is  my  comrade,  Lieu- 
tenant George  Warner  of  Vermont,  and  not  far  away 
is  Sergeant  Whitley,  late  of  the  regular  army,  one  of 
the  best  soldiers  in  the  world.  Can  I  greet  them, 
colonel?" 

"Of  course." 

Dick  rushed  forward  and  saluted  Colonel  New- 
comb,  who  grasped  him  warmly  by  the  hand. 

"So  you  got  safely  through,  my  lad,"  he  said. 
"Major  Hertford,  who  came  down  the  Kentucky  with 
his  detachment  and  joined  us  at  Carrollton  at  the 
mouth  of  that  river,  told  us  of  your  mission.  The 
major  is  bringing  up  the  rear  of  our  column,  but  here 
are  other  friends  of  yours." 

Dick  the  next  moment  was  wringing  the  hand  of  the 
Vermont  boy  and  was  receiving  an  equally  powerful 
grip  in  return. 

"I  believed  that  we  would  meet  you  here,"  said 
Warner,  "I  calculated  that  with  your  courage,  skill 
and  knowledge  of  the  country  the  chances  were  at 
least  eighty  per  cent  in  favor  of  your  getting  through 
to  Buell.  And  if  you  did  get  through  to  Buell  I  knew 
that  at  least  ninety  per  cent  of  the  circumstances 
would  represent  your  desire  and  effort  to  come  here. 
That  was  a  net  percentage  of  seventy-two  in  favor 
of  meeting  you  here  in  Cairo,  and  the  seventy-two 
per  cent  has  prevailed,  as  it  usually  does." 

"Nothing  is  so  bad  that  it  can't  be  worse,"  said 
Sergeant  Whitley,  as  he  too  gave  Dick's  hand  an  iron 
grasp,  "and  I  knew  that  when  we  lost  you  we'd  be 
pretty  glad  to  see  you  again.  Here  you  are  safe  an' 

167 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

sound,  an'  here  we  are  safe  an'  sound,  a  most  satis- 
factory condition  in  war." 

"But  not  likely  to  remain  so  long,  judging  from 
what  we  see  here,"  said  Warner.  "We  hear  that  this 
man  Grant  is  a  restless  sort  of  a  person  who  thinks 
that  the  way  to  beat  the  enemy  is  just  to  go  in  and 
beat  him." 

Major  Hertford  came  up  at  that  moment,  and  he, 
too,  gave  Dick  a  welcome  that  warmed  his  heart.  But 
the  boy  did  not  get  to  remain  long  with  his  old  com- 
rades. The  Pennsylvania  regiment  had  been  much 
cut  down  through  the  necessity  of  leaving  detach- 
ments as  guards  at  various  places  along  the  river,  but 
it  was  yet  enough  to  make  a  skeleton  and  its  entity 
was  preserved,  forming  a  little  eastern  band  among 
so  many  westerners. 

Dick,  at  General  Grant's  order,  was  transferred  per- 
manently to  the  staff  of  Colonel  Winchester,  and  he 
and  the  other  officers  slept  that  night  in  a  small  build- 
ing in  the  outskirts  of  Cairo.  He  knew  that  a  great 
movement  was  at  hand,  but  he  was  becoming  so 
thoroughly  inured  to  danger  and  hardship  that  he 
slept  soundly  all  through  the  night. 

They  heard  early  the  next  morning  the  sound  of 
many  trumpets  and  Colonel  Winchester's  regiment 
formed  for  embarkation.  All  the  puffing  steamers 
were  now  in  the  Ohio,  and  Dick  saw  with  them  many 
other  vessels  which  were  not  used  for  carrying 
soldiers.  He  saw  broad,  low  boats,  with  flat  bottoms, 
their  sides  sheathed  in  iron  plates.  They  were  floating 
batteries  moved  by  powerful  engines  beneath.  Then 

1 68 


TAKING    A   FORT 

there  were  eight  huge  mortars,  a  foot  across  the  muz- 
zle, every  one  mounted  separately  upon  a  strong  barge 
and  towed.  Some  of  the  steamers  were  sheathed  in 
iron  also. 

Dick's  heart  throbbed  hard  when  he  saw  the  great 
equipment.  The  fighting  ships  were  under  the  com- 
mand of  Commodore  Foote,  an  able  man,  but  General 
Grant  and  his  lieutenants,  General  McClernand  and 
General  Smith,  commanded  the  army  aboard  the  trans- 
ports. On  the  transport  next  to  them  Dick  saw  the 
Pennsylvanians  and  he  waved  his  hand  to  his  friends 
who  stood  on  the  deck.  They  waved  back,  and  Dick 
felt  powerfully  the  sense  of  comradeship.  It  warmed 
his  heart  for  them  all  to  be  together  again,  and  it  was 
a  source  of  strength,  too. 

The  steamer  that  bore  his  regiment  was  named  the 
River  Queen,  and  many  of  her  cabins  had  been  torn 
away  to  make  more  room  for  the  troops  who  would 
sleep  in  rows  on  her  decks,  as  thick  as  buffaloes  in  a 
herd.  The  soldiers,  like  all  the  others  whom  he  saw, 
were  mostly  boys.  The  average  could  not  be  over 
twenty,  and  some  were  not  over  sixteen.  But  they 
had  the  adaptability  of  youth.  They  had  scattered 
themselves  about  in  easy  positions.  One  was  playing 
an  accordion,  and  another  a  fiddle.  The  officers  did 
not  interrupt  them. 

As  Dick  looked  over  the  side  at  the  yellow  torrent 
some  one  said  beside  him: 

"This  is  a  whopping  big  river.  You  don't  see  them 
as  deep  as  this  where  I  come  from." 

Dick  glanced  at  the  speaker,  and  saw  a  lad  of  about 

169 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

his  own  age,  of  medium  height,  but  powerfully  built, 
with  shoulders  uncommonly  thick.  His  face  was 
tanned  brown,  but  his  eyes  were  blue  and  his  natural 
complexion  was  fair.  He  was  clad  completely  in 
deerskin,  mocassins  on  his  feet  and  a  raccoon  skin  cap 
on  his  head.  Dick  had  noticed  the  Nebraska  hunters 
in  such  garb,  but  he  was  surprised  to  see  this  boy 
dressed  in  similar  fashion  among  the  Kentuckians. 

The  youth  smiled  when  he  saw  Dick's  glance  of 
surprise. 

"I  know  I  look  odd  among  you,"  he  said,  "and  you 
take  me  for  one  of  the  Nebraska  hunters.  So  I  am, 
but  I'm  a  Kentuckian,  too,  and  I've  a  right  to  a  place 
with  you  fellows.  My  name  is  Frank  Pennington.  I 
was  born  about  forty  miles  north  of  Pendleton,  but 
•when  I  was  six  months  old  my  parents  went  out  on 
the  plains,  where  I've  hunted  buffalo,  and  where  I've 
fought  Indians,  too.  But  I'm  a  Kentuckian  by  right 
of  birth  just  as  you  are,  and  I  asked  to  be  assigned  to 
the  regiment  raised  in  the  region  from  which  we 
came." 

"And  mighty  welcome  you  are,  too,"  said  Dick, 
offering  his  hand.  "You  belong  with  us,  and  we'll  stick 
together  on  this  campaign." 

The  two  youths,  one  officer  and  one  private,  became 
fast  friends  in  a  moment.  Events  move  swiftly  in 
\var.  Both  now  felt  the  great  engines  throbbing 
faster  beneath  them,  and  the  flotilla,  well  into  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio,  was  leaving  the  Mississippi  be- 
hind them.  But  the  Ohio  here  for  a  distance  is  ap- 
parently the  mightier  stream,  and  they  gazed  with  in- 

170 


TAKING   A   FORT 

terest  and  a  certain  awe  at  the  vast  yellow  sheet  en- 
closed by  shores,  somber  in  the  gray  garb  of  winter. 
It  was  the  beginning  of  February,  and  cold  winds 
swept  down  from  the  Illinois  prairies.  Cairo  had 
been  left  behind  and  there  was  no  sign  of  human  hab- 
itation. Some  wild  fowl,  careless  of  winter,  flew 
over  the  stream,  dipped  toward  the  water,  and  then 
flew  away  again. 

As  far  as  the  eye  was  concerned  the  wilderness  cir- 
cled about  them  and  enclosed  them.  The  air  was  cold 
and  flakes  of  snow  dropped  upon  the  decks  and  the 
river,  but  were  gone  in  an  instant.  The  skies  were 
an  unbroken  sheet  of  gray.  The  scene  so  lonely  and 
desolate  contained  a  majesty  that  impressed  them  allr 
heightened  for  these  youths  by  the  knowledge  that 
many  of  them  were  going  on  a  campaign  from  which 
they  would  never  return. 

"Looks  as  wild  as  the  great  plains  on  which  I've 
hunted  with  my  father,"  said  Pennington. 

"But  we  hunt  bigger  game  than  buffalo,"  said  Dick. 

"Game  that  is  likely  to  turn  and  hunt  us." 

"Yes." 

"Do  you  know  where  we're  going?" 

"Not  exactly,  but  I  can  make  a  good  guess.  I  know 
that  we've  taken  on  Tennessee  River  pilots,  and  I'm 
sure  that  we'll  turn  into  the  mouth  of  that  river  at 
Paducah.  I  infer  that  we're  to  attack  Fort  Henry, 
which  the  Confederates  have  erected  some  distance  up 
the  Tennessee  to  guard  that  river." 

"Looks  likely.  Do  you  know  much  about  the 
fort?" 

171 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"I've  heard  of  it  only  since  I  came  to  Cairo.  I  know 
that  it  stands  on  low,  marshy  ground  facing  the  Ten- 
nessee, and  that  it  contains  seventeen  big  guns.  I 
haven't  heard  anything  about  the  size  of  its  garrison." 

"But  we'll  have  a  fight,  that's  sure,"  said  young 
Pennington.  "I've  been  in  battle  only  once — at  Col- 
umbus— but  the  Johnny  Rebs  don't  give  up  forts  in  a 
hurry." 

"There's  another  fort,  a  much  bigger  one,  named 
Donelson,  on  the  Cumberland,"  said  Dick.  "Both  the 
forts  are  in  Tennessee,  but  as  the  two  rivers  run  paral- 
lel here  in  the  western  parts  of  the  two  states,  Fort 
Donelson  and  Fort  Henry  are  not  far  apart.  I  risk 
a  guess  that  we  attack  both." 

"You  don't  risk  much.  I  tell  you,  Dick,  that  man 
Grant  is  a  holy  terror.  He  isn't  much  to  look  at,  but 
he's  a  marcher  and  a  fighter.  We  fellows  in  the  ranks 
soon  learn  what  kind  of  a  man  is  over  us.  I  suppose 
it's  like  the  horse  feeling  through  the  bit  the  temper  of 
his  rider.  President  Lincoln  has  stationed  General 
Halleck  at  St.  Louis  with  general  command  here  in 
the  West.  General  Halleck  thinks  that  General  Grant 
is  a  meek  subordinate  without  ambition,  and  will  al- 
ways be  sending  back  to  him  for  instructions,  which  is 
just  what  General  Halleck  likes,  but  we  in  the  ranks 
have  learned  to  know  our  Grant  better." 

Dick's  eyes  glistened. 

"So  you  think,  then,"  he  said,  "that  General  Grant 
will  push  this  campaign  home,  and  that  he'll  soon  be 
where  he  can't  get  instructions  from  General  Hal- 
leck?" 

172 


TAKING   A   FORT 

"Looks  that  way  to  a  man  up  a  tree,"  said  Penning- 
ton  slowly,  and  solemnly  winking  his  left  eye. 

They  were  officer  and  private,  but  they  were  only 
lads  together,  and  they  talked  freely  with  each  other. 
Dick,  after  a  while,  returned  to  his  commanding  offi- 
cer, Colonel  Winchester,  but  there  was  little  to  do,  and 
he  sat  on  the  deck  with  him,  looking  out  over  the 
fleet,  the  transports,  the  floating  batteries,  the  mortar 
boats,  and  the  iron-clads.  He  saw  that  the  North,  be- 
sides being  vastly  superior  in  numbers  and  resources, 
was  the  supreme  master  on  the  water  through  her 
equipment  and  the  mechanical  skill  of  her  people.  The 
South  had  no  advantage  save  the  defensive,  and  the 
mighty  generals  of  genius  who  appeared  chiefly  on 
her  Virginia  line. 

Dick  had  inherited  a  thoughtful  temperament  from 
his  famous  ancestor,  Paul  Cotter,  whose  learning  had 
appeared  almost  superhuman  to  the  people  of  his 
time,  and  he  was  extremely  sensitive  to  impressions. 
His  mind  would  register  them  with  instant  truth.  As 
he  looked  now  upon  this  floating  army  he  felt  that 
the  Union  cause  must  win.  On  land  the  Confederates 
might  be  invincible  or  almost  so,  but  the  waters  of 
the  rivers  and  the  sea  upheld  the  Union  cause. 

The  fleet  steamed  on  at  an  even  pace.  Foote,  the 
commodore  who  had  daringly  reconnoitered  Fort 
Henry  from  a  single  gunboat  in  the  Tennessee,  man- 
aged everything  with  alertness  and  skill.  The  trans- 
ports were  in  the  center  of  the  stream.  The  armed 
and  armored  vessels  kept  on  the  flanks. 

The  river,  a  vast  yellow  sheet,  sometimes  turning 

173 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

gray  under  the  gray,  wintry  skies,  seemed  alone  save 
for  themselves.  Not  a  single  canoe  or  skiff  disturbed 
its  surface.  Toward  evening  the  flakes  of  snow  came 
again,  and  the  bitter  wind  blew  once  more  from  the 
Illinois  prairies.  All  the  troops  who  were  not  under 
shelter  were  wrapped  in  blankets  or  overcoats.  Dick 
and  the  colonel,  with  the  heavy  coats  over  their  uni- 
forms, did  not  suffer.  Instead,  they  enjoyed  the  cold, 
crisp  air,  which  filled  their  lungs  and  seemed  to  in- 
crease their  power. 

"When  shall  we  reach  the  Tennessee?"  asked  Dick. 

"You  will  probably  wake  up  in  the  morning  to  find 
yourself  some  distance  up  that  stream." 

"I've  never  seen  the  Tennessee." 

"Though  not  the  equal  of  the  Ohio,  it  would  be 
called  a  giant  river  in  many  countries.  The  whole 
fleet,  if  it  wanted  to  do  it,  could  go  up  it  hundreds  of 
miles.  Why,  Dick,  these  boats  can  go  clear  down  into 
Alabama,  into  the  very  heart  of  the  Confederacy,  into 
the  very  state  at  the  capital  of  which  Jefferson  Davis 
was  inaugurated  President  of  the  seceding  states." 

"I  was  thinking  of  that  some  time  ago,"  said  Dick. 
"The  water  is  with  us." 

"Yes,  the  water  is  with  us,  and  will  stay  with  us." 

They  were  silent  a  little  while  longer  and  watched 
the  coming  of  the  early  winter  twilight  over  the  waters 
and  the  lonely  land.  The  sky  was  so  heavy  with  clouds 
that  the  gray  seemed  to  melt  into  the  brown.  The  low 
banks  slipped  back  into  the  dark.  They  saw  only  the 
near  surface  of  the  river,  the  dark  hulls  of  the  fleet, 
occasional  showers  of  sparks  from  smoke  stacks,  and 

174 


TAKING   A   FORT 

an  immense  black  cloud  made  by  the  smoke  of  the 
fleet,  trailing  behind  them  far  down  the  river. 

"Dick,"  said  Colonel  Winchester  suddenly,  "as  you 
came  across  Kentucky  from  Mill  Spring,  and  passed 
so  near  Pendleton  it  must  have  been  a  great  tempta- 
tion to  you  to  stop  and  see  your  mother." 

"It  was.  It  was  so  great  that  I  yielded  to  it.  I 
was  at  our  home  about  midnight  for  nearly  an  hour. 
I  hope  I  did  nothing  wrong,  colonel." 

"No,  Dick,  my  boy.  Some  martinets  might  find 
fault  with  you,  but  I  should  blame  you  had  you  not 
stopped  for  those  few  moments.  A  noble  woman, 
your  mother,  Dick.  I  hope  that  she  is  watched  over 
well." 

Dick  glanced  at  the  colonel,  but  he  could  not  see 
his  face  in  the  deepening  twilight. 

"My  uncle,  Colonel  Kenton,  has  directed  his  people 
to  give  her  help  in  case  of  need,"  he  replied,  "but  that 
means  physical  help  against  raiders  and  guerillas. 
Otherwise  she  has  sufficient  for  her  support." 

"That  is  well.  War  is  terrible  on  women.  And 
now,  Dick,  my  lad,  we'll  get  our  supper.  This  nipping 
air  makes  me  hungry,  and  the  Northern  troops  do 
not  suffer  for  lack  of  food." 

The  officers  ate  in  one  of  the  cabins,  and  when  the 
supper  was  finished  deep  night  had  come  over  the 
river,  but  Dick,  standing  on  the  deck,  heard  the  heavy 
throb  of  many  engines,  and  he  knew  that  a  great  army 
was  still  around  him,  driven  on  by  the  will  of  one 
man,  deep  into  the  country  of  the  foe. 

The  decks,  every  foot  of  plank  it  seemed,  were 

175 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

already  covered  with  the  sleeping  boys,  wrapped  in 
their  blankets  and  overcoats.  He  saw  his  friend,  the 
young  hunter  from  Nebraska,  lying  with  his  head  on 
his  arm,  sound  asleep,  a  smile  on  his  face. 

Dick  watched  until  the  first  darkness  thinned  some- 
what, and  the  stars  came  out.  Then  he  retired  to  one 
of  the  cabins,  which  he  shared  with  three  or  four 
others,  and  slept  soundly  until  he  was  aroused  for 
breakfast.  He  had  not  undressed,  and,  bathing  his 
face,  he  went  out  at  once  on  the  deck.  Many  of  the 
soldiers  were  up,  there  was  a  hum  of  talk,  and  all  were 
looking  curiously  at  the  river  up  which  they  were 
steaming. 

They  were  in  the  Tennessee,  having  passed  in  the 
night  the  little  town  of  Paducah — now  an  important 
city — at  its  mouth.  It  was  not  so  broad  as  the  Ohio, 
but  it  was  broad,  nevertheless,  and  it  had  the  aspect 
of  great  depth.  But  here,  as  on  the  Ohio,  they  seemed 
to  be  steaming  through  the  wilderness.  The  banks 
were  densely  wooded,  and  the  few  houses  that  may 
have  been  near  were  hidden  by  the  trees.  No  human 
beings  appeared  upon  the  banks. 

Dick  knew  why  the  men  did  not  come  forth  to  see 
the  ships.  The  southwestern  part  of  the  state,  the  old 
Jackson's  Purchase,  and  the  region  immediately  ad- 
jacent, was  almost  solidly  for  the  South.  They  would 
not  find  here  that  division  of  sentiment,  with  the  ma- 
jority inclined  to  the  North,  that  prevailed  in  the 
higher  regions  of  Kentucky.  The  country  itself  was 
different.  It  was  low  and  the  waters  that  came  into 
the  Tennessee  flowed  more  sluggishly. 

176 


TAKING    A   FORT 

But  Dick  was  sure  that  keen  eyes  were  watching 
the  fleet  from  the  undergrowth,  and  he  had  no  doubt 
that  every  vessel  had  long  since  been  counted  and  that 
every  detail  of  the  fleet  had  been  carried  to  the  South- 
ern garrisons  in  the  fort. 

The  cold  was  as  sharp  as  on  the  day  before,  and 
Dick,  like  the  others,  rejoiced  in  the  hot  and  abun- 
dant breakfast.  The  boats,  an  hour  or  two  later, 
stopped  at  a  little  landing,  and  many  of  the  lads  would 
gladly  have  gone  ashore  for  a  few  moments,  risking 
possible  sharpshooters  in  the  woods,  but  not  one  was 
allowed  to  leave  the  vessels.  But  Dick's  steamer  lay 
so  close  to  the  one  carrying  the  Pennsylvanians  that 
he  could  talk  across  the  few  intervening  feet  of  water 
with  Warner  and  Whitley.  He  also  took  the  oppor- 
tunity to  introduce  his  new  friend  Pennington,  of 
Nebraska. 

"Are  you  the  son  of  John  Pennington,  who  lived 
for  a  little  while  at  Fort  Omaha?"  asked  the  ser- 
geant. 

"Right  you  are,"  replied  the  young  hunter,  "I'm 
his  third  son." 

"Then  you're  the  third  son  of  a  brave  man.  I  was 
in  the  regular  army  and  often  we  helped  the  pioneers 
against  the  Indians.  I  remember  being  in  one  fight 
with  him  against  the  Sioux  on  the  Platte,  and  in  an- 
other against  the  Northern  Cheyennes  in  the  Jumping 
Sand  Hills." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Pennington.  "I'm  sorry  I  can't 
jump  over  a  section  of  the  Tennessee  River  and  shake 
hands  with  you." 

177 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"We'll  have  our  chance  later,"  said  the  sergeant. 
At  that  moment  the  fleet  started  again,  and  the  boats; 
swung  apart.  Through  Dick's  earnest  solicitation 
young  Pennington  was  taken  out  of  the  ranks  and 
attached  to  the  staff  of  Colonel  Winchester  as  an  or- 
derly. He  was  well  educated,  already  a  fine  cam- 
paigner, and  beyond  a  doubt  he  would  prove  extremely 
useful. 

They  steamed  the  entire  day  without  interruption. 
Now  and  then  the  river  narrowed  and  they  ran  be- 
tween high  banks.  The  scenery  became  romantic  and 
beautiful,  but  always  wild.  The  river,  deep  at  any 
time,  was  now  swollen  fifteen  feet  more  by  floods  on 
its  upper  courses,  and  the  water  always  lapped  at  the 
base  of  the  forest. 

Dick  and  Pennington,  standing  side  by  side,  saw 
the  second  sun  set  over  their  voyage,  and  it  was  as 
wild  and  lonely  as  the  first.  There  was  a  yellow  river 
again,  and  hills  covered  with  a  bare  forest.  Heavy 
gray  clouds  trooped  across  the  sky,  and  the  sun  was 
lost  among  them  before  it  sank  behind  the  hills  in 
the  west. 

Dick  and  Pennington,  wrapped  in  their  blankets  and 
overcoats,  slept  upon  the  deck  that  night,  with  scores 
of  others  strewed  about  them.  They  were  awakened 
after  eleven  o'clock  by  a  sputter  of  rifle  shots.  Dick 
sat  up  in  a  daze  and  heard  a  bullet  hum  by  his  ear.  Then 
he  heard  a  powerful  voice  shouting:  "Down!  Down, 
all  of  you!  It's  only  some  skirmishers  in  the  woods!" 
Then  a  cannon  on  one  of  the  armor  clads  thundered, 
and  a  shell  ripped  its  way  through  the  underbrush  on 

178 


TAKING    A   FORT 

the  west  bank.     Many  exclamations  were  uttered  by 
the  half-awakened  lads. 

"What  is  it?    Has  an  army  attacked  us?" 
"Are  we  before  the  fort  and  under  fire?" 
"Take  your  foot  off  me,  you  big  buffalo!" 
It  was  Colonel  Winchester  who  had  commanded 
them  to  keep  down,  but  Dick,  a  staff  officer,  knew  that 
it  did  not  apply  to  him.     Instead  he  sprang  erect  and 
assisted  the  senior  officers  in  compelling  the  others  to 
lie  fiat  upon  the  decks.    He  saw  several  flashes  of  fire 
in  the  undergrowth,  but  he  had  logic  enough  to  know 
that  it  could  only  be  a  small  Southern  band.     Three 
or  four  more  shells  raked  the  woods,  and  then  there 
was  no  reply. 

The  boats  steamed  steadily  on.  Only  one  or  two  of 
the  young  soldiers  had  been  hurt  and  they  but  lightly. 
All  rolled  themselves  again  in  their  blankets  and  coats 
and  went  back  to  sleep. 

The  second  awakening  was  about  half  way  between 
midnight  and  dawn.  Something  cold  was  continually 
dropping  on  Dick's  face  and  he  awoke  to  find  hundreds 
of  sheeted  and  silent  white  forms  lying  motionless 
upon  the  deck.  Snow  was  falling  swiftly  out  of  a 
dark  sky,  and  the  fleet  was  moving  slowly.  In  the 
darkness  and  stillness  the  engines  throbbed  powerfully, 
and  the  night  was  lighted  fitfully  by  the  showers  of 
sparks  that  gushed  now  and  then  from  the  smoke 
stacks. 

Dick  thought  of  rising  and  brushing  the  snow  from 
his  blankets,  but  he  was  so  warm  inside  them  that 
he  yawned  once  or  twice  and  went  to  sleep  again. 

179 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

When  he  awoke  it  was  morning  again,  the  snow  had 
ceased  and  the  men  were  brushing  it  from  themselves 
and  the  decks. 

The  young  soldiers,  as  they  ate  breakfast,  spoke  of 
the  rifle  shots  that  had  been  fired  at  them  the  night 
before  and,  since  little  damage  had  been  done,  they 
appreciated  the  small  spice  of  danger.  The  wildness 
and  mystery  of  their  situation  appealed  to  them,  too. 
They  were  like  explorers,  penetrating  new  regions. 

"To  most  of  us  it's  something  like  the  great  plains," 
said  Pennington  to  Dick.  "There  you  seldom  know 
what  you're  coming  to;  maybe  a  blizzard,  maybe  a 
buffalo  herd,  and  maybe  a  band  of  Indians,  and  you 
take  a  pleasure  in  the  uncertainty.  But  I  suppose  it's 
not  the  same  to  you,  this  being  your  state." 

"I  don't  know  much  about  Western  Kentucky,"  said 
Dick,  "my  part  lies  to  the  center  and  east,  but  any- 
way, our  work  is  to  be  done  in  Tennessee.  Those 
two  forts,  which  I'm  sure  we're  after,  lie  in  that 
state." 

"And  when  do  you  think  we'll  reach  'em?" 

"Tomorrow,  I  suppose." 

The  day  passed  without  any  interruption  to  the  ad- 
vance of  the  fleet,  although  there  was  occasional  fir- 
ing, but  not  of  a  serious  nature.  Now  and  then  small 
bands  of  Confederate  skirmishers  sent  rifle  shots  from 
high  points  along  the  bank  toward  the  fleet,  but  they 
did  no  damage  and  the  ships  steamed  steadily  on. 

The  third  night  out  came,  and  again  the  young  sol- 
diers slept  soundly,  but  the  next  morning,  soon  after 
breakfast,  the  whole  fleet  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the 

1 80 


TAKING   A   FORT 

river.  A  thrill  of  excitement  ran  through  the  army 
when  the  news  filtered  from  ship  to  ship  that  they 
were  now  in  Tennessee,  and  that  Fort  Henry,  which 
they  were  to  attack,  was  just  ahead.  t 

Nevertheless,  they  seemed  to  be  yet  in  the  wilder- 
ness. The  Tennessee,  in  flood,  spread  its  yellow  waters 
through  forest  and  undergrowth,  and  the  chill  gray 
sky  still  gave  a  uniform  somber,  gray  tint  to  every- 
thing. Bugles  blew  in  the  boats,  and  every  soldier  be- 
gan to  put  himself  and  his  weapons  in  order.  The 
command  to  make  a  landing  had  been  given,  and 
Commodore  Foote  was  feeling  about  for  a  place. 

Dick  now  realized  the  enormous  advantage  of  su- 
premacy upon  the  water.  Had  the  Confederates 
possessed  armored  ships  to  meet  them,  the  landing  of 
a  great  army  under  fire  would  be  impossible,  but  now 
they  chose  their  own  time  and  went  about  it  unvexed. 

A  place  was  found  at  last,  a  rude  wharf  was  con- 
structed hastily,  and  the  fleet  disgorged  the  army,  boat 
by  boat.  Vast  quantities  of  stores  and  heavy  cannon 
were  also  brought  ashore.  Despite  the  cold,  Dick  and 
his  comrades  perspired  all  the  morning  over  their 
labors  and  were  covered  with  mud  when  the  camp  was 
finally  constructed  at  some  distance  back  of  the  Ten- 
nessee, on  the  high  ground  beyond  the  overflow.  The 
transports  remained  at  anchor,  but  the  fighting  boats 
were  to  drop  down  the  stream  and  attack  the  fort  at 
noon  the  next  day  from  the  front,  while  the  army 
assailed  it  at  the  same  time  from  the  rear. 

The  detachment  of  Pennsylvanians  was  by  the  side 
of  Colonel  Winchester's  Kentucky  regiment,  and  Colo- 

181 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

nel  Newcomb  and  his  staff  messed  with  Colonel  Win- 
chester and  his  officers.  There  was  water  everywhere, 
and  before  they  ate  they  washed  the  mud  off  them- 
selves as  best  they  could. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Warner,  "that  seventy  per  cent 
of  our  work  henceforth  will  be  marching  through  the 
mud,  and  thirty  per  cent  of  it  will  be  fighting  the 
rebels  in  Fort  Henry.  I  hear  that  we're  not  to  at- 
tack until  tomorrow,  so  I  mean  to  sleep  on  top  of  a 
cannon  tonight,  lest  I  sink  out  of  sight  in  the  mud 
while  I'm  asleep." 

"There's  some  pleasure,"  said  Pennington,  "in 
knowing  that  we  won't  die  of  thirst.  You  could 
hardly  call  this  a  parched  and  burning  desert." 

But  as  they  worked  all  the  remainder  of  the  day  on 
the  construction  of  the  camp,  they  did  not  care  where 
they  slept.  When  their  work  was  over  they  simply 
dropped  where  they  stood  and  slumbered  soundly; 
until  morning. 

The  day  opened  with  a  mixture  of  rain,  snow,  and 
fiercely  cold  winds.  Grant's  army  moved  out  of  its 
camp  to  make  the  attack,  but  it  was  hampered  by  the 
terrible  weather  and  the  vast  swamp  through  which 
its  course  must  lead.  Colonel  Winchester,  who  knew 
the  country  better  than  any  other  high  officer,  was  sent 
ahead  on  horseback  with  a  small  detachment  to  ex- 
amine the  way.  He  naturally  took  Dick  and  Penning- 
ton, who  were  on  his  staff,  and  by  request,  Colonel 
Newcomb,  Major  Hertford,  Warner  and  Sergeant 
Whitley  went  also.  The  whole  party  numbered  about 
a  hundred  men. 

182 


TAKING   A   FORT 

Dick  and  the  other  lads  rejoiced  over  their  mission. 
It  was  better  to  ride  ahead  than  to  remain  with  an 
army  that  was  pulling  itself  along  slowly  through  the 
mud.  The  fort  itself  was  only  about  three  miles  away, 
and  as  it  stood  upon  low,  marshy  ground,  the  back- 
water from  the  flooded  Tennessee  had  almost  sur- 
rounded it. 

Despite  their  horses,  Winchester's  men  found  their 
own  advance  slow.  They  had  to  make  many  a  twist 
and  turn  to  avoid  marshes  and  deep  water  before  they 
came  within  the  sight  of  the  fort,  and  then  Dick's 
watch  told  him  that  it  was  nearly  noon,  the  time  for 
the  concerted  attacks  of  army  and  fleet.  But  it  was 
certain  now  that  the  army  could  not  get  up  until  sev- 
eral hours  later,  and  he  wondered  what  would  happen. 

They  saw  the  fort  very  clearly  from  their  position 
on  a  low  hill,  and  they  saw  that  the  main  Confederate 
force  was  gathered  on  a  height  outside,  connected  with 
the  fort,  and  as  well  as  he  could  judge,  the  mass  seemed 
to  number  three  or  four  thousand  men. 

"What  does  that  mean?"  he  asked  Colonel  Win- 
chester. 

"I  surmise,"  replied  the  colonel,  "that  Tilghman, 
the  Confederate  commander,  is  afraid  his  men  may  be 
caught  in  a  trap.  We  know  his  troops  are  merely  raw 
militia,  and  he  has  put  them  where  they  can  retreat 
in  case  of  defeat.  He,  himself,  with  his  trained  can- 
noneers, is  inside  the  fort." 

"There  can  be  no  attack  until  tomorrow,"  said  Colo- 
nel Newcomb.  "It  will  be  impossible  for  General 
Grant's  army  to  get  here  in  time." 

183 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"You  are  certainly  right  about  the  army,  but  I'm 
not  so  sure  that  you're  right  about  the  attack.  Look 
what's  coming  up  the  river." 

The  fleet!"  exclaimed  Newcomb  in  excitement.  "As 
sure  as  I'm  here  it's  the  fleet,  advancing  to  make  the 
attack  alone.  Foote  is  a  daring  and  energetic  man,  and 
the  failure  of  the  army  to  co-operate  will  not  keep 
him  back." 

"Daring  and  energy,  seventy  per  cent,  at  least," 
Dick  heard  Warner  murmur,  but  he  paid  no  more  at- 
tention to  his  comrades  because  all  his  interest  was 
absorbed  in  the  thrilling  spectacle  that  was  about  to 
be  unfolded  before  them. 

The  fleet,  the  armor  clads,  the  floating  batteries,  and 
the  mortar  boats,  were  coming  straight  toward  the 
fort.  Colonel  Winchester  lent  Dick  his  glasses  for  a 
moment,  and  the  boy  plainly  saw  the  great,  yawning 
mouths  of  the  mortars.  Then  he  passed  the  glasses 
back  to  the  colonel,  but  he  was  able  to  see  well  what 
followed  with  the  naked  eye.  The  fleet  came  on, 
steady,  but  yet  silent. 

There  was  a  sudden  roar,  a  flash  of  fire  and  a  shell 
was  discharged  from  one  of  the  seventeen  great  guns 
in  the  fort.  But  it  passed  over  the  boat  at  which  it 
was  aimed,  and  a  fountain  of  water  spurted  up  where 
it  struck.  The  other  guns  replied  rapidly,  and  the 
fleet,  with  a  terrific  roar,  replied.  It  seemed  to  Dick 
that  the  whole  earth  shook  with  the  confusion. 
Through  the  smoke  and  flame  he  saw  the  water  gush- 
ing up  in  fountains,  and  he  also  saw  earth  and  ma- 
sonry flying  from  the  fort. 

184 


TAKING    A   FORT 

"It's  a  fine  fight,"  said  'Colonel  Winchester,  sup- 
pressed excitement  showing  in  his  tone.  "By  George, 
the  fleet  is  coming  closer.  Not  a  boat  has  been  sunk ! 
What  a  tremendous  roar  those  mortars  make.  Look! 
one  of  their  shells  has  burst  directly  on  the  fort!" 

The  fleet,  single  handed,  was  certainly  making  a 
determined  and  powerful  attack  upon  the  fort,  which 
standing  upon  low,  marshy  ground,  was  not  much 
above  the  level  of  the  boats,  and  offered  a  fair  target 
to  their  great  guns.  Both  fort  and  fleet  were  now 
enveloped  in  a  great  cloud  of  smoke,  but  it  was  re- 
peatedly rent  asunder  by  the  flashing  of  the  great 
guns,  and,  rapt  by  the  spectacle  from  which  he  could 
not  take  his  eyes,  Dick  saw  that  all  the  vessels  of  the 
fleet  were  still  afloat  and  were  crowding  closer  and 
closer. 

The  artillery  kept  up  a  steady  crash  now,  punctu- 
ated by  the  hollow  boom  of  the  great  mortars,  which 
threw  huge,  curving  shells.  The  smoke  floated  far 
up  and  down  the  river,  and  the  Southern  troops  on 
the  height  adjoining  the  fort  moved  back  and  forth 
uneasily,  uncertain  what  to  do.  Finally  they  broke 
and  retreated  into  the  forest. 

But  General  Tiighman,  the  Confederate  commander, 
and  the  heroic  gunners  inside  the  fort,  only  sixty  in 
number,  made  the  most  heroic  resistance.  The  armor 
clad  boats  were  only  six  hundred  yards  away  now,  and 
were  pouring  upon  them  a  perfect  storm  of  fire. 

Their  intrenchments,  placed  too  low,  gave  them  no 
advantage  over  the  vessels.  Shells  and  solid  shot 
rained  upon  them.  Some  of  the  guns  were  exploded 

185 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

and  others  dismounted  by  this  terrible  shower,  but  they 
did  not  yet  give  up.  As  fast  as  they  could  load  and 
fire  the  little  band  sent  back  their  own  fire  at  the  black 
hulks  that  showed  through  the  smoke. 

"The  fleet  will  win,"  Dick  heard  Colonel  Winchester 
murmur.  "Look  how  magnificently  it  is  handled,  and 
it  converges  closer  and  closer.  A  fortification  located 
as  this  one  is  cannot  stand  forever  a  fire  like  that." 

But  the  fleet  was  not  escaping  unharmed.  A  shell 
burst  the  boiler  of  the  Essex,  killing  and  wounding 
twenty-nine  men.  Nevertheless,  the  fire  of  the  boats 
increased  rather  than  diminished,  and  Dick  saw  that 
Colonel  Winchester's  words  were  bound  to  come  true. 

Inside  the  fort  there  was  only  depression.  It  had 
been  raked  through  by  shells  and  solid  shot  Most  of 
the  devoted  band  were  wounded  and  scarcely  a  gun 
could  be  worked.  Tilghman,  standing  amid  his  dead 
and  wounded,  saw  that  hope  was  no  longer  left,  and 
gave  the  signal. 

Dick  and  his  comrades  uttered  a  great  shout  as  they 
saw  the  white  flag  go  up  over  Fort  Henry,  and  then 
the  cannonade  ceased,  like  a  mighty  crash  of  thunder 
that  had  rolled  suddenly  across  the  sky. 


CHAPTER  X 

BEFORE   DONELSON 

DICK  was  the  first  in  Colonel  Winchester's 
troop  to  see  the  white  flag  floating  over  Fort 
Henry  and  he  uttered  a  shout  of  joy. 

"Look!  look!"  he  cried,  "the  fleet  has  taken  the 
fort!" 

"So  it  has,"  said  Colonel  Winchester,  "and  the 
army  is  not  here.  Now  I  wonder  what  General  Grant 
will  say  when  he  learns  that  Foote  has  done  the  work 
before  he  could  come." 

But  Dick  believed  that  General  Grant  would  find  no 
fault,  that  he  would  approve  instead.  The  feeling  was 
already  spreading  among  the  soldiers  that  this  man, 
whose  name  was  recently  so  new  among  them,  cared 
only  for  results.  He  was  not  one  to  fight  over  prec- 
edence and  to  feel  petty  jealousies. 

The  smoke  of  battle  was  beginning  to  clear  away. 
Officers  were  landing  from  the  boats  to  receive  the 
surrender  of  the  fort,  and  Colonel  Winchester  and  his 
troops  galloped  rapidly  back  toward  the  army,  which 
they  soon  met,  toiling  through  swamps  and  even 
through  shallow  overflow  toward  the  Tennessee.  The 
men  had  been  hearing  for  more  than  an  hour  the 

187 


steady  booming  of  the  cannon,  and  every  face  was 
eager. 

Colonel  Winchester  rode  straight  toward  a  short, 
thickset  figure  on  a  stout  bay  horse  near  the  head  of 
one  of  the  columns.  This  man,  like  all  the  others, 
was  plastered  with  mud,  but  Colonel  Winchester  gave 
him  a  salute  of  deep  respect. 

"What  does  the  cessation  of  firing  mean,  Colonel?" 
asked  General  Grant. 

"It  means  that  Fort  Henry  has  surrendered  to  the 
fleet.  The  Southern  force,  which  was  drawn  up  out- 
side, retreated  southward,  but  the  fort,  its  guns  and 
immediate  defenders,  are  ours." 

Dick  saw  the  faintest  smile  of  satisfaction  pass  over 
the  face  of  the  General,  who  said: 

"Commodore  Foote  has  done  well.  Ride  back  and 
tell  him  that  the  army  is  coming  up  as  fast  as  the 
nature  of  the  ground  will  allow." 

In  a  short  time  the  army  was  in  the  fort  which  had 
been  taken  so  gallantly  by  the  navy,  and  Grant,  his 
generals,  and  Commodore  Foote,  were  in  anxious  con- 
sultation. Most  of  the  troops  were  soon  camped  on 
the  height,  where  the  Southern  force  had  stood,  and 
there  was  great  exultation,  but  Dick,  who  had  now 
seen  so  much,  knew  that  the  high  officers  considered 
this  only  a  beginning. 

Across  the  narrow  stretch  of  land  on  the  parallel 
river,  the  Cumberland,  stood  the  great  fort  of  Donel- 
son.  Henry  was  a  small  affair  compared  with  it. 
It  was  likely  that  men  who  had  been  stationed  at 
Henry  had  retreated  there,  and  other  formidable  forces 

1 88 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

were  marching  to  the  same  place.  The  Confederate 
commander,  Johnston,  after  the  destruction  of  his  east- 
ern wing  at  Mill  Spring  by  Thomas,  was  drawing  in 
his  forces  and  concentrating.  The  news  of  the  loss  of 
Fort  Henry  would  cause  him  to  hasten  his  operations. 
He  was  rapidly  falling  back  from  his  position  at  Bowl- 
ing Green  in  Kentucky.  Buckner,  with  his  division, 
was  about  to  march  from  that  place  to  join  the  garri- 
son in  Donelson,  and  Floyd,  with  another  division, 
would  soon  be  on  the  way  to  the  same  point.  Floyd 
had  been  the  United  States  Secretary  of  War  before 
secession,  and  the  Union  men  hated  him.  It  was  said 
that  the  great  partisan  leader,  Forrest,  with  his  cav- 
alry, was  also  at  the  fort. 

Much  of  this  news  was  brought  in  by  farmers,  Union 
sympathizers,  and  Dick  and  his  comrades,  as  they  sat 
before  the  fires  at  the  close  of  the  short  winter  day, 
understood  the  situation  almost  as  well  as  the  generals. 

"Donelson  is  ninety  per  cent  and  Henry  only  ten 
per  cent,"  said  Warner.  "So  long  as  the  Johnnies 
hold  Donelson  on  the  Cumberland,  they  can  build 
another  fort  anywhere  they  please  along  the  Tennessee, 
and  stop  our  fleet.  This  general  of  ours  has  a  good 
notion  of  the  value  of  time  and  a  swift  blow,  and,  al- 
though I'm  neither  a  prophet  nor  the  son  of  a  prophet, 
I  predict  that  he  will  attack  Donelson  at  once  by  both 
land  and  water." 

"How  can  he  attack  it  by  water?"  asked  Penning- 
ton.  "The  distance  between  them  is  not  great,  but 
our  ships  can't  steam  overland  from  the  Tennessee  to 
the  Cumberland." 

189 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"No,  but  they  can  steam  back  up  the  Tennessee  into 
the  Ohio,  thence  to  the  mouth  of  the  Cumberland,  and 
down  the  Cumberland  to  Donelson.  It  would  require 
only  four  or  five  days,  and  it  will  take  that  long  for 
the  army  to  invade  from  the  land  side." 

Dick  had  his  doubts  about  the  ability  of  the  army 
and  the  fleet  to  co-operate.  Accustomed  to  the  energy 
of  the  Southern  commanders  in  the  east  he  did  not 
believe  that  Grant  would  be  allowed  to  arrange  things 
as  he  chose.  But  several  days  passed  and  they  heard 
nothing  from  the  Confederates,  although  Donelson 
was  only  about  twenty  miles  away.  Johnston  himself, 
brilliant  and  sagacious,  was  not  there,  nor  was  his 
lieutenant,  Beauregard,  who  had  won  such  a  great 
reputation  by  his  victory  at  the  first  Bull  Run. 

Dick  was  just  beginning  to  suspect  a  truth  that  later 
on  was  to  be  confirmed  fully  in  his  mind.  Fortune 
had  placed  the  great  generals  of  the  Confederacy,  with 
the  exception  of  Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  in  the  east, 
but  it  had  been  the  good  luck  of  the  North  to  open 
in  the  west  with  its  best  men. 

Now  he  saw  the  energy  of  Grant,  the  short  man  of 
rather  insignificant  appearance.  Boats  were  sent  down 
the  Tennessee  to  meet  any  reinforcements  that  might 
be  coming,  take  them  back  to  the  Ohio,  and  thence 
into  the  Cumberland.  Fresh  supplies  of  ammunition 
and  food  were  brought  up,  and  it  became  obvious  to 
Dick  that  the  daring  commander  meant  to  attack 
Donelson,  even  should  its  garrison  outnumber  his  own 
besieging  force. 

Along  a  long  line  from  Western  Tennessee  to  East- 
190 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

ern  Kentucky  there  was  a  mighty  stir.  Johnston  had 
perceived  the  energy  and  courage  of  his  opponent.  He 
had  shared  the  deep  disappointment  of  all  the  South- 
ern leaders  when  Kentucky  failed  to  secede,  but  in- 
stead furnished  so  many  thousands  of  fine  troops  to 
the  Union  army. 

Johnston,  too,  had  noticed  with  alarm  the  tremen- 
dous outpouring  of  rugged  men  from  the  states  be- 
yond the  Ohio  and  from  the  far  northwest.  The 
lumbermen  who  came  down  in  scores  of  thousands 
from  Michigan,  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota,  were  a 
stalwart  crowd.  War,  save  for  the  bullets  and  shell, 
offered  to  them  no  hardships  to  which  they  were  not 
used.  They  had  often  worked  for  days  at  a  time 
up  to  their  waists  in  icy  water.  They  had  endured 
thirty  degrees  below  zero  without  a  murmur,  they  had 
breasted  blizzard  and  cyclone,  they  could  live  on  any- 
thing, and  they  could  sleep  either  in  forest  or  on 
prairie,  under  the  open  sky. 

It  was  such  men  as  these,  including  men  of  his  own 
state,  and  men  of  the  Tennessee  mountains,  whom 
Johnston,  who  had  all  the  qualities  of  a  great  com- 
mander, had  to  face.  The  forces  against  him  were 
greatly  superior  in  number.  The  eastern  end  of  his 
line  had  been  crushed  already  at  Mill  Spring,  the  ex- 
treme western  end  had  suffered  a  severe  blow  at  Fort 
Henry,  but  Jefferson  Davis  and  the  Government  at 
Richmond  expected  everything  of  him.  And  he  man- 
fully strove  to  do  everything. 

There  was  a  mighty  marching  of  men,  some  news 
of  which  came  through  to  Dick  and  his  comrades  with 

191 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Grant.  Johnston  with  his  main  army,  the  very  flower 
of  the  western  South,  fell  back  from  Bowling  Green, 
in  Kentucky,  toward  Nashville,  the  capital  of  Tennes- 
see. But  Buckner,  with  his  division,  was  sent  from 
Bowling  Green  to  help  defend  Donelson  against  the 
threatened  attack  by  Grant,  and  he  arrived  there  six 
days  after  the  fall  of  Henry.  On  the  way  were  the 
troops  of  Floyd,  defeated  in  West  Virginia,  but  after- 
wards sent  westward.  Floyd  was  at  the  head  of  them. 
Forrest,  the  great  cavalry  leader,  was  also  there  with 
his  horsemen.  The  fort  was  crowded  with  defenders, 
but  the  slack  Pillow  did  not  yet  send  forward  any- 
body to  see  what  Grant  was  doing,  although  he  was 
only  twenty  miles  away. 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  upon  the  west.  The  cen- 
ter of  action  had  suddenly  shifted  from  Kentucky  to 
Tennessee.  The  telegraph  was  young  yet,  but  it  was 
busy.  It  carried  many  varying  reports  to  the  cities 
North  and  South.  The  name  of  this  new  man,  Grant, 
spelled  trouble.  People  were  beginning  to  talk  much 
about  him,  and  already  some  suspected  that  there 
was  more  in  the  back  of  his  head  than  in  those  of  far 
better  known  and  far  more  pretentious  northern 
generals  in  the  east.  None  at  least  could  dispute  the 
fact  that  he  was  now  the  one  whom  everybody  was 
watching. 

But  the  Southern  people,  few  of  whom  knew  the 
disparity  of  numbers,  had  the  fullest  confidence  in  the 
brilliant  Johnston.  He  was  more  than  twenty  years 
older  than  his  antagonist,  but  his  years  had  brought 
only  experience  and  many  triumphs,  not  weakness  of 

192 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

either  mind  or  body.  At  his  right  hand  was  the 
swarthy  and  confident  Beauregard,  great  with  the 
prestige  of  Bull  Run,  and  Hardee,  Bragg,  Breckin- 
ridge  and  Polk.  And  there  were  many  brilliant  colo- 
nels, too,  foremost  among  whom  was  George  Kenton. 

A  tremor  passed  through  the  North  when  it  was 
learned  that  Grant  intended  to  plunge  into  the  winter 
forest,  cross  the  Cumberland,  and  lay  siege  to  Don- 
elson.  He  was  going  beyond  the  plans  of  his  supe- 
rior, Halleck,  at  St.  Louis.  He  was  too  daring,  he 
would  lose  his  army,  away  down  there  in  the  Con- 
federacy. But  others  remembered  his  successes,  par- 
ticularly at  Belmont  and  Fort  Henry.  They  said  that 
nothing  could  be  won  in  war  without  risk,  and  they 
spoke  of  his  daring  and  decision.  They  recalled,  too, 
that  he  was  master  upon  the  waters,  that  there  was  no 
Southern  fleet  to  face  his,  as  it  sailed  up  the  Southern 
rivers.  The  telegraph  was  already  announcing  that 
the  gunboats,  which  had  been  handled  with  such  skill 
and  courage,  would  be  in  the  Cumberland  ready  to 
co-operate  with  Grant  when  he  should  move  on  Don- 
elson. 

Buell  was  moving  also  to  form  another  link  in  the 
steel  chain  that  was  intended  to  bind  the  Confederacy 
in  the  west.  Here  again  the  mastery  of  the  rivers  was 
of  supreme  value  to  the  North.  Buell  embarked  his 
army  on  boats  on  Green  River  in  the  very  heart  of 
Kentucky,  descended  that  river  to  the  Ohio,  passing 
down  the  latter  to  Smithland,  where  the  Cumberland, 
coming  up  from  the  south,  entered  it,  and  met  an- 
other convoy  destined  for  the  huge  invasion. 

193 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

But  the  first  convoy  had  come,  also  by  boat,  from 
another  direction,  and  from  points  far  distant.  There 
were  fresh  regiments  of  farmers  and  pioneers  from 
Iowa,  Nebraska,  and  Minnesota.  They  were  all  eager, 
full  of  enthusiasm,  anxious  to  be  led  against  the  en- 
emy, and  confident  of  triumph. 

Grant  and  his  army,  meanwhile,  lying  in  the  bleak 
forest  beside  the  Tennessee,  knew  little  of  what  was 
being  said  of  them  in  the  great  world  without.  All 
their  thoughts  were  of  Donelson,  across  there  on  the 
other  river,  and  the  men  asked  to  be  led  against  it. 
Inured  to  the  hardships  of  border  life,  there  was  lit- 
tle sickness  among  them,  despite  the  winter  and  the 
overflow  of  the  flooded  streams.  They  gathered  the 
dead  wood  that  littered  the  forest,  built  numerous 
fires,  and  waited  as  patiently  as  they  could  for  the 
word  to  march. 

The  Pennsylvanians  were  still  camped  with  the  Ken- 
tucky regiment  to  which  Dick  now  belonged,  and  the 
fifth  evening  after  the  capture  of  Henry  he  and  his 
friends  sat  by  one  of  the  big  fires. 

"We'll  advance  either  tomorrow  or  the  next  day," 
said  Warner.  "The  chances  are  at  least  ninety  per 
cent  in  favor  of  my  statement.  What  do  you  say, 
sergeant?" 

"I'd  raise  the  ninety  per  cent  to  one  hundred,"  re- 
plied Whitley.  "We  are  all  ready  an'  as  you've  ob- 
served, gentlemen,  General  Grant  is  a  man  who 
acts." 

"The  Johnnies  evidently  expect  us,"  said  Penning- 
ton.  "Our  scouts  have  seen  their  cavalry  in  the  woods 

194 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

watching  us,  but  only  in  the  last  day  or  two.     It's 
strange  that  they  didn't  begin  it  earlier." 

"They  say  that  General  Pillow,  who  commands 
them,  isn't  of  much  force,"  said  Dick. 

"Well,  it  looks  like  it,"  said  Warner,  "but  from 
what  we  hear  he'll  have  quite  an  army  at  Donelson. 
General  Grant  will  have  his  work  cut  out  for  him. 
The  Johnnies,  besides  having  their  fort,  can  go  into 
battle  with  just  about  as  many  men  as  we  have,  unless 
he  waits  for  reinforcements,  which  I  am  quite  certain 
he  isn't  going  to  do." 

That  evening  several  bags  of  mail  were  brought  to 
the  camp  on  a  small  steamer,  which  had  come  on  three 
rivers,  the  Green,  the  Ohio,  and  the  Tennessee,  and 
Dick,  to  his  great  surprise  and  delight,  received  a  let- 
ter from  his  mother.  He  had  written  several  letters 
himself,  but  he  had  no  way  of  knowing  until  now 
that  any  of  them  had  reached  her.  Only  one  had  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  through,  and  that  had  been  written 
from  Cairo. 

"My  dearest  son,"  she  wrote,  "I  am  full  of  joy  to 
know  that  you  have  reached  Cairo  in  safety  and  in 
health,  though  I  dread  the  great  expedition  upon  which 
you  say  you  are  going.  I  hear  in  Pendleton  many  re- 
ports about  General  Grant.  They  say  that  he  does  not 
spare  his  men.  The  Southern  sympathizers  here  say 
that  he  is  pitiless  and  cares  not  how  many  thousands 
of  his  own  soldiers  he  may  sacrifice,  if  he  only  gains 
his  aim.  But  of  that  I  know  not.  I  know  it  is  a  char- 
acteristic of  our  poor  human  nature  to  absolve  one's 
own  side  and  to  accuse  those  on  the  other  side. 

195 


"I  was  in  Pendleton  this  morning,  and  the  reports 
are  thick;  thick  from  both  Northerners  and  South- 
erners, that  the  armies  are  moving  forward  to  a  great 
battle.  They  have  all  marched  south  of  us,  and  I  do 
not  know  either  whether  these  reports  are  true  or  false, 
though  I  fear  that  they  are  true.  Your  uncle,  Colonel 
Kenton,  is  with  General  Johnston,  and  I  hear  is  one 
of  his  most  trusted  officers.  Colonel  Kenton  is  a  good 
man,  and  it  would  be  one  of  the  terrible  tragedies  of 
war  if  you  and  he  were  to  meet  on  the  field  in  this 
great  battle,  which  so  many  hear  is  coming. 

"I  am  very  glad  that  you  are  now  in  the  regiment 
of  Colonel  Winchester,  and  that  you  are  an  aide  on 
his  staff.  It  is  best  to  be  with  one's  own  people.  I 
have  known  Colonel  Winchester  a  long  time,  and  he 
has  all  the  qualities  that  make  a  man,  brave  and  gentle. 
I  hope  that  you  and  he  will  become  the  best  of 
friends. " 

There  was  much  more  in  the  letter,  but  it  was  only 
the  little  details  that  concern  mother  and  son.  Dick 
was  sitting  by  the  fire  when  he  read  it  Then  he  read 
it  a  second  time  and  a  third  time,  folded  it  very  care- 
fully and  put  it  in  the  pocket  in  which  he  had  carried 
the  dispatch  from  General  Thomas. 

Colonel  Winchester  was  sitting  near  him,  and  Dick 
noticed  again  what  a  fine,  trim  man  he  was.  Although 
a  little  over  forty,  his  figure  was  still  slender,  and  he 
had  an  abundant  head  of  thick,  vital  hair.  His  whole 
effect  was  that  of  youth.  His  glance  met  Dick's  and 
he  smiled. 

"A  letter  from  home?"  he  said. 
196 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

"Yes,  sir,  from  mother.  She  writes  to  me  that  she 
is  glad  I  am  in  your  command.  She  speaks  very 
highly  of  you,  sir,  and  my  mother  is  a  woman  of  un- 
common penetration." 

A  faint  red  tinted  the  tanned  cheeks  of  the  colonel. 
Dick  thought  it  was  merely  the  reflection  of  the  fire. 

"Would  you  care  for  me  to  read  what  she  says 
about  you?"  asked  Dick. 

"If  you  don't  mind." 

Dick  drew  out  the  letter  again  and  read  the  para- 
graph. 

"Your  mother  is  a  very  fine  woman,"  said  Colonel 
Winchester. 

"Your're  right,  sir,"  said  Dick  with  enthusiasm. 

Colonel  Winchester  said  no  more,  but  rose  pres- 
ently and  went  to  the  tent  of  General  Grant,  where  a 
conference  of  officers  was  to  be  held.  Dick  remained 
by  the  fire,  where  Warner  and  Pennington  soon  joined 
him. 

"Our  scouts  have  exchanged  some  shots  with  the 
enemy,"  said  Pennington,  "and  they  have  taken  one 
or  two  prisoners,  bold  fellows  who  say  they're  going 
to  lick  the  spots  off  us.  They  say  they  have  a  big 
army  at  Donelson,  and  they're  afraid  of  nothing  ex- 
cept that  Grant  won't  come  on.  Between  ourselves, 
the  Johnny  Rebs  are  getting  ready  for  us." 

It  was  Dick's  opinion,  too,  that  the  Southern  troops 
were  making  great  preparations  to  meet  them,  but, 
like  the  others,  he  was  feeling  the  strong  hand  on  the 
reins.  He  did  not  notice  here  the  doubt  and  uncer- 
tainty that  had  reigned  at  Washington  before  the  ad- 

197 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

vance  on  Bull  Run;  in  Grant's  army  were  order  and 
precision,  and  with  perfect  confidence  in  his  com- 
mander he  rolled  himself  in  his  blankets  that  night 
and  went  to  sleep. 

The  order  to  advance  did  not  come  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  Dick,  for  a  few  moments,  thought  it  might 
not  come  at  all.  The  reports  from  Donelson  were  of 
a  formidable  nature,  and  Grant's  own  army  was  not 
provided  for  a  winter  campaign.  It  had  few  wagons 
for  food  and  ammunition,  and  some  of  the  regiments 
from  the  northwest,  cherishing  the  delusion  that  win- 
ter in  Tennessee  was  not  cold,  were  not  provided  with 
warm  clothing  and  sufficient  blankets. 

But  Warner  abated  his  confidence  not  one  jot 

"The  chance  of  our  moving  against  Donelson  is  one 
hundred  per  cent,"  he  said.  "I  passed  the  General 
today  and  his  lips  were  shut  tight  together,  which 
means  a  resolve  to  do  at  all  costs  what  one  has  in- 
tended to  do.  I  still  admit  that  the  prophets  and  the 
sons  of  prophets  live  no  more,  but  I  predict  with  ab- 
solute certainty  that  we  will  move  in  the  morning." 

The  Vermonter's  faith  was  justified.  The  army, 
being  put  in  thorough  trim,  started  at  dawn  upon  its 
momentous  march.  Wintry  fogs  were  rising  from  the 
great  river  and  the  submerged  lowlands,  and  the -air 
was  full  of  raw,  penetrating  chill.  An  abundant 
breakfast  was  served  to  everybody,  and  then  with 
warmth  and  courage  the  lads  of  the  west  and  north- 
west marched  forward  with  eagerness  to  an  undertak- 
ing which  they  knew  would  be  far  greater  than  the 
capture  of  Fort  Henry. 

198 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

Dick  and  Pennington,  as  staff  officers,  were  mount- 
ed, although  the  horses  that  had  been  furnished  to 
them  were  not  much  more  than  ponies.  Warner  rode 
with  Colonel  Newcomb  and  Major  Hertford,  who  led 
the  slender  Pennsylvania  detachment  beside  the  Ken- 
tucky regiment  Thus  the  army  emerged  from  its 
camp  and  began  the  march  toward  the  Cumberland.  It 
was  now  about  fifteen  thousand  strong,  but  it  expected 
reinforcements,  and  its  fleet  held  the  command  of  the 
rivers. 

As  they  entered  the  leafless  forest  Dick  saw  ahead 
of  them,  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  a  numer- 
ous band  of  horsemen  wearing  faded  Confederate 
gray.  They  were  the  cavalry  of  Forrest,  but  they 
were  too  few  to  stay  the  Union  advances.  There  was 
a  scattered  firing  of  rifles,  but  the  heavy  brigades  of 
Grant  moved  steadily  on,  and  pushed  them  out  of  the 
way.  Forrest  could  do  no  more  than  gallop  back  to 
the  fort  with  his  men  and  report  that  the  enemy  was 
coming  at  last. 

"Those  fellows  ride  well,"  said  Pennington,  as  the 
last  of  Forrest's  cavalrymen  passed  out  of  sight,  "and 
if  we  were  not  in  such  strong  force  I  fancy  they  would 
sting  us  pretty  hard." 

"We'll  see  more  of  'em,"  said  Dick.  "This  is  the 
enemy's  country,  and  we  needn't  think  that  we're 
going  to  march  as  easy  as  you  please  from  one  victory 
to  another." 

"Maybe  not,"  said  Pennington,  "but  I'll  be  glad 
when  we  get  Donelson.  I've  been  hearing  so  much 
about  that  place  that  I'm  growing  real  curious." 

199 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Their  march  across  the  woods  suffered  no  further 
interruption.  Sometimes  they  saw  Confederate  cav- 
alrymen at  a  distance  in  front,  but  they  did  not  try  to 
impede  Grant's  advance.  When  the  sun  was  well 
down  in  the  west,  the  vanguard  of  the  army  came 
within  sight  of  the  fortress  that  stood  by  the  Cum- 
berland. At  that  very  moment  the  troops  under  Floyd, 
just  arrived,  were  crossing  the  river  to  join  the  garri- 
son in  the  fortress. 

Dick  looked  upon  extensive  fortifications,  a  large 
fort,  a  redoubt  upon  slightly  higher  ground,  other 
batteries  at  the  water's  edge,  powerful  batteries  upon 
a  semi-circular  hill  which  could  command  the  river  for 
a  long  distance,  and  around  all  of  these  extensive 
works,  several  miles  in  length,  including  a  deep  creek 
on  the  north.  Inside  the  works  was  the  little  town  of 
Dover,  and  they  were  defended  by  fifteen  thousand 
men,  as  many  as  Grant  had  without. 

When  Dick  beheld  this  formidable  position  bristling 
with  cannon,  rifles  and  bayonets,  his  heart  sank  within 
him.  How  could  one  army  defeat  another,  as  numer- 
ous as  itself,  inside  powerful  intrenchments,  and  in 
its  own  country  ?  Nor  could  they  prevent  Southern  re- 
inforcements from  reaching  the  other  side  of  the 
river  and  crossing  to  the  fort  under  the  shelter  of  its 
numerous  great  guns.  He  was  yet  to  learn  the  truth, 
or  at  least  the  partial  truth,  of  Napoleon's  famous 
saying,  that  in  war  an  army  is  nothing,  a  man  is 
everything.  The  army  to  which  he  belonged  was  led 
by  a  man  of  clear  vision  and  undaunted  resolution. 
The  chief  commander  inside  the  fort  had  neither,  and 

200 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

his  men  were  shaken  already  by  the  news  of  Fort 
Henry,  exaggerated  in  the  telling. 

But  after  the  first  sinking  of  the  heart  Dick  felt 
an  extraordinary  thrill.  Sensitive  and  imaginative,  he 
was  conscious  even  at  the  moment  that  he  looked  in 
the  face  of  mighty  events.  The  things  of  the  minute 
did  not  always  appeal  to  him  with  the  greatest  force. 
He  had,  instead,  the  foreseeing  mind,  and  the  meaning 
of  that  vast  panorama  of  fortress,  hills,  river  and 
forest  did  not  escape  him. 

"Well,  Dick,  what  do  you  think  of  it?"  asked  Pen- 
nington. 

"We've  got  our  work  cut  out  for  us,  and  if  I  didn't 
know  General  Grant  I'd  say  that  we're  engaged  in 
a  mighty  rash  undertaking." 

"Just  what  I'd  say,  also.  And  we  need  that  fleet 
bad,  too,  Dick.  I'd  like  to  see  the  smoke  of  its  funnels 
as  the  boats  come  steaming  up  the  Cumberland." 

Dick  knew  that  the  fleet  was  needed,  not  alone  for 
encouragement  and  fighting  help,  but  to  supply  an 
even  greater  want.  Grant's  army  was  short  of  both 
food  and  ammunition.  The  afternoon  had  turned 
warm,  and  many  of  the  northwestern  lads,  still  cling- 
ing to  their  illusions  about  the  climate  of  the  lower 
Mississippi  Valley,  had  dropped  their  blankets.  Now, 
with  the  setting  sun,  the  raw,  penetrating  chill  was 
coming  back,  and  they  shivered  in  every  bone. 

But  the  Union  army,  in  spite  of  everything,  gradu- 
ally spread  out  and  enfolded  the  whole  fortress,  save 
on  the  northern  side  where  Hickman  Creek  flowed, 
deep  and  impassable.  The  general's  own  headquar- 

201 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

ters  were  due  west  of  Fort  Donelson,  and  Colonel 
Winchester's  Kentucky  regiment  was  stationed  close 
by. 

Low  campfires  burned  along  the  long  line  of  the 
Northern  army,  and  Dick  and  others  who  sat  beside 
him  saw  many  lights  inside  the  great  enclosure  held 
by  the  South.  An  occasional  report  was  heard,  but  it 
was  only  the  pickets  exchanging  shots  at  long  range 
and  without  hurt.  Dick  and  Pennington  wrapped  their 
blankets  about  them  and  sat  with  their  backs  against  a 
log,  ready  for  any  command  from  Colonel  Winchester. 
Now  and  then  they  were  sent  with  orders,  because 
there  was  much  moving  to  and  fro,  the  placing  of  men 
in  position  and  the  bringing  up  of  cannon. 

Thus  the  night  moved  slowly  on,  raw,  cold  and 
dark.  Mists  and  fogs  rose  from  the  Cumberland  as 
they  had  risen  from  the  Tennessee.  This,  too,  was 
a  great  river.  Dick  was  glad  when  the  last  of  his 
errands  was  done,  and  he  could  come  back  to  the  fire, 
and  rest  his  back  once  more  against  the  log.  The  fire 
was  only  a  bed  of  coals  now,  but  they  gave  out  much 
grateful  heat. 

Dick  could  see  General  Grant's  tent  from  where  he 
sat.  Officers  of  high  rank  were  still  entering  it  or 
leaving  it,  and  he  was  quite  sure  that  they  were  plan- 
ning an  attack  on  the  morrow. 

But  the  idea  of  an  assault  did  not  greatly  move  him 
now.  He  was  too  tired  and  sleepy  to  have  more  than 
a  vague  impression  of  anything.  He  saw  the  coals 
glowing  before  him,  and  then  he  did  not  see  them. 
He  had  gone  sound  asleep  in  an  instant. 

202 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

The  next  morning  was  gray  and  troubled,  with 
heavy  clouds,  rolling  across  the  sky.  The  rising  sun. 
was  blurred  by  them,  and  as  the  men  ate  their 
breakfasts  some  of  the  great  guns  from  the  fort  be- 
gan to  fire  at  the  presumptuous  besieger.  The  heavy 
reports  rolled  sullenly  over  the  desolate  forests, 
but  the  Northern  cannon  did  not  yet  reply.  The 
Southern  fire  was  doing  no  damage.  It  was  merely 
a  threat,  a  menace  to  those  who  should  dare  the 
assault. 

Colonel  Winchester  signalled  to  Dick  and  Penning- 
ton,  and  mounting  their  horses  they  rode  with  him  to 
the  crest  of  the  highest  adjacent  hill.  Presently  Gen- 
eral Grant  came  and  with  him  were  the  generals, 
McClernand  and  Smith.  Colonel  Newcomb  also  ar- 
rived, attended  by  Warner.  The  high  officers  exam- 
ined the  fort  a  long  time  through  their  glasses,  but 
Dick  noticed  that  at  times  they  watched  the  river.  He 
knew  they  were  looking  there  for  the  black  plumes  of 
smoke  which  should  mark  the  coming  of  the  steamers 
out  of  the  Ohio. 

But  nothing  showed  on  the  surface  of  the  Cumber- 
land. The  river,  dark  gray  under  lowering  clouds, 
flowed  placidly  on,  washing  the  base  of  Fort  Donel- 
son.  At  intervals  of  a  minute  or  two  there  was  a 
flash  of  fire  from  the  fort,  and  the  menacing  boom  of 
the  cannon  rolled  through  the  desolate  forest.  Now 
and  then,  a  gun  from  one  of  the  Northern  batteries 
replied.  But  it  was  as  yet  a  desultory  battle,  with 
much  noise  and  little  danger,  merely  a  threat  of  what 
was  to  come. 

203 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

After  a  while  Colonel  Winchester  wrote  something 
on  a  slip  of  paper: 

"Take  this  to  our  lieutenant-colonel,"  he  said. 
"It  is  an  order  for  the  regiment  to  hold  itself  in  com- 
plete readiness,  although  no  action  may  come  for  some 
time.  Then  return  here  at  once." 

Dick  rode  back  swiftly,  but  on  his  way  he  suddenly 
bent  over  his  saddle  bow.  A  shell  from  the  fort 
screamed  over  his  head  in  such  a  menacing  fashion 
that  it  seemed  to  be  only  a  few  inches  from  him.  But 
it  passed  on,  leaving  him  unharmed,  and  burst  three 
hundred  yards  away. 

Dick  instantly  straightened  up  in  the  saddle,  looked 
around,  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  he  saw  that 
no  one  had  noticed  his  sudden  bow,  and  galloped  on 
with  the  order.  The  lieutenant-colonel  read  it  and 
Siodded.  Then  Dick  rode  back  to  the  hill  where  the 
generals  were  yet  watching  in  vain  for  those  black 
plumes  of  smoke  on  the  Cumberland. 

They  left  the  hill  at  last  and  the  generals  went  to 
their  brigades.  General  Grant  was  smoking  a  cigar 
and  his  face  was  impassive. 

"We're  to  open  soon  with  the  artillery,"  said 
Colonel  Winchester  to  Dick.  "General  Grant  means 
to  push  things." 

The  desultory  firing,  those  warning  guns,  ceased 
entirely,  and  for  a  while  both  armies  stood  in  almost 
complete  silence.  Then  a  Northern  battery  on  the 
right  opened  with  a  tremendous  crash  and  the  battle 
for  Donelson  had  begun.  A  Southern  battery  replied 
at  once  and  the  firing  spread  along  the  whole  vast 

204 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

curve.  Shells  and  solid  shot  whistled  through  tlie 
air,  but  the  troops  back  of  the  guns  crouched  in  hasty 
entrenchments,  and  waited. 

The  great  artillery  combat  went  on  for  some  time. 
To  many  of  the  lads  on  either  side  it  seemed  for 
hours.  Then  the  guns  on  the  Northern  side  ceased 
suddenly  bugles  sounded,  and  the  regiments,  drawn 
up  in  line,  rushed  at  the  outer  fortifications. 

Colonel  Winchester  and  his  staff  had  dismounted, 
but  Dick  and  Pennington,  keeping  by  the  colonel's 
side,  drew  their  swords  and  rushed  on  shouting.  The 
Southerners  inside  the  fort  fired  their  cannon  as  fast 
as  they  could  now,  and  at  closer  range  opened  with 
the  rifles.  Dick  heard  once  again  that  terrible  shriek- 
ing of  metal  so  close  to  his  ears,  and  then  he  heard, 
too,  cries  of  pain.  Many  of  the  young  soldiers  behind 
him  were  falling. 

The  fire  now  grew  so  hot  and  deadly  that  the  Union 
regiments  were  forced  to  give  ground.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  they  could  not  carry  the  formidable  earth- 
works, but  on  the  right,  where  Dick's  regiment 
charged,  and  just  above  the  little  town  of  Dover, 
they  pressed  in  far  enough  to  secure  some  hills  that 
protected  them  from  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  and  from 
which  Southern  cannon  and  rifles  could  not  drive  them. 
Then,  at  the  order  of  Grant,  his  troops  withdrew  else- 
where and  the  battle  of  the  day  ceased.  But  on  the 
low  hills  above  Dover,  which  they  had  taken,  the  Union 
regiments  held  their  ground,  and  from  their  position 
the  Northern  cannon  could  threaten  the  interior  of  the 
Southern  lines. 

20; 


Dick's  regiment  stood  here,  and  beside  them  were 
the  few  companies  of  Pennsylvanians  so  far  from 
their  native  state.  Neither  Dick  nor  Pennington  was 
wounded.  Warner  had  a  bandaged  arm,  but  the  wound 
was  so  slight  that  it  would  not  incapacitate  him.  The 
officers  were  unhurt. 

"They've  driven  our  army  back,"  said  Pennington, 
"and  it  was  not  so  hard  for  them  to  do  it  either. 
How  can  we  ever  defeat  an  army  as  large  as  our  own 
inside  powerful  works?" 

But  Dick  was  learning  fast  and  he  had  a  keen  eye. 

"We  have  not  failed  utterly,"  he  said.  "Don't  you 
see  that  we  have  here  a  projection  into  the  enemy's 
lines,  and  if  those  reinforcements  come  it  will  be 
thrust  further  and  further?  I  tell  you  that  general  of 
ours  is  a  bull  dog.  He  will  never  let  go." 

Yet  there  was  little  but  gloom  in  the  Union  camp. 
The  short  winter  day,  somber  and  heavy  with  clouds,, 
was  drawing  to  a  close.  The  field  upon  which  the 
assault  had  taken  place  was  within  the  sweep  of  the 
Southern  guns.  Some  of  the  Northern  wounded  had 
crawled  away  or  had  been  carried  to  their  own  camp, 
but  others  and  the  numerous  dead  still  lay  upon  the 
ground. 

The  cold  increased.  The  Southern  winter  is  subject 
to  violent  changes.  The  clouds  which  had  floated  up 
without  ceasing  were  massing  heavily.  Now  the  young 
troops  regretted  bitterly  the  blankets  that  they  had 
dropped  on  the  way  or  left  at  Fort  Henry.  Detach- 
ments were  sent  back  to  regain  as  many  as  possible, 
but  long  before  they  could  return  a  sharp  wind  with 

206 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

an  edge  of  ice  sprang  up,  the  clouds  opened  and  great 
flakes  poured  down,  driven  into  the  eyes  of  the  sol- 
diers by  the  wind. 

The  situation  was  enough  to  cause  the  stoutest  heart 
to  weaken,  but  the  unflinching  Grant  held  on.  The 
Confederate  army  within  the  works  was  sheltered  at 
least  in  part,  but  his  own,  outside,  and  with  the  deso- 
late forest  rimming  it  around,  lay  exposed  fully  to  the 
storm.  Dick,  at  intervals,  saw  the  short,  thickset  figure 
of  the  commander  passing  among  the  men,  and  giv- 
ing them  orders  or  encouragement.  Once  he  saw  his 
face  clearly.  The  lips  were  pressed  tightly  together, 
and  the  whole  countenance  expressed  the  grimmest 
determination.  Dick  was  confirmed  anew  in  his  be- 
lief that  the  chief  would  never  turn  back. 

The  spectacle,  nevertheless,  was  appalling.  The 
snow  drove  harder  and  harder.  It  was  not  merely 
a  passing  shower  of  flakes.  It  was  a  storm.  The 
snow  soon  lay  upon  the  ground  an  inch  deep,  then 
three  inches,  then  four  and  still  it  gained.  Through 
the  darkness  and  the  storm  the  Southern  cannon 
crashed  at  intervals,  sending  shells  at  random  into  the 
Union  camp  or  over  it.  There  was  full  need  then  for 
the  indomitable  spirit  of  Grant  and  those  around 
him  to  encourage  anew  the  thousands  of  boys  who  had 
so  lately  left  the  farms  or  the  lumber  yards. 

Dick  and  his  comrades,  careless  of  the  risk,  searched 
over  the  battlefield  for  the  wounded  who  were  yet 
there.  They  carried  lanterns,  but  the  darkness  was  so 
great  and  the  snow  drove  so  hard  and  lay  so  deep  that 
they  knew  many  would  never  be  found. 

207 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Back  beyond  the  range  of  the  fort's  cannon  men 
were  building  fires  with  what  wood  they  could  secure 
from  the  forest.  All  the  tents  they  had  were  set  up, 
and  the  men  tried  to  cook  food  and  make  coffee,  in 
order  that  some  degree  of  warmth  and  cheer  might  be 
provided  for  the  army  beset  so  sorely. 

The  snow,  after  a  while,  slackening  somewhat,  was 
succeeded  by  cold  much  greater  than  ever.  The  shiv- 
ering men  bent  over  the  fires  and  lamented  anew  the 
discarded  blankets.  Dick  did  not  sleep  an  instant  that 
terrible  night.  He  could  not.  He,  Pennington,  and 
Warner,  relieved  from  staff  service,  worked  all 
through  the  cold  and  darkness,  helping  the  wounded 
and  seeking  wood  for  the  fires.  And  with  them  al- 
ways was  the  wise  Sergeant  Whitley,  to  whom,  al- 
though inferior  in  rank,  they  turned  often  and  will- 
ingly for  guidance  and  advice. 

"It's  an  awful  situation,"  said  Pennington;  "I  knew 
that  war  would  furnish  horrors,  but  I  didn't  expect 
anything  like  this." 

"But  General  Grant  will  never  retreat,"  said  Dick. 
"I  feel  it  in  every  bone  of  me.  I've  seen  his  face  to- 
night." 

"No,  he  won't,"  said  the  experienced  sergeant,  "be- 
cause he's  making  every  preparation  to  stay.  An'  re- 
member, Mr.  Pennington,  that  while  this  is  pretty  bad, 
worse  can  happen.  Remember,  too,  that  while  we  can 
stand  this,  we  can  also  stand  whatever  worse  may 
come.  It's  goin'  to  be  a  fight  to  a  finish." 

Far  in  the  night  the  occasional  guns  from  the 
Southern  fortress  ceased.  The  snow  was  falling  no 

208 


BEFORE    DONELSON 

longer,  but  it  lay  very  deep  on  the  ground,  and  the 
cold  was  at  its  height.  Along  a  line  of  miles  the  fires 
burned  and  th'e  men  crowded  about  them.  But  Dick, 
who  had  been  working  on  the  snowy  plain  that  was  the 
battlefield,  and  who  had  heard  many  moans  there, 
now  heard  none.  All  who  lay  in  that  space  were 
sleeping  the  common  sleep  of  death,  their  bodies  frozen 
stiff  and  hard  under  the  snow. 

Dick,  sitting  by  one  of  the  fires,  saw  the  cold  dawn 
come,  and  in  those  chill  hours  of  nervous  exhaustion 
he  lost  hope  for  a  moment  or  two.  How  could  any- 
body, no  matter  how  resolute,  maintain  a  siege  with- 
out ammunition  and  without  food.  But  he  spoke 
cheerfully  to  Pennington  and  Warner,  who  had  slept 
a  little  and  who  were  just  awakening. 

The  pale  and  wintry  sun  showed  the  defiant  Stars 
and  Bars  floating  over  Donelson,  and  Dick  from  his  hill 
could  see  men  moving  inside  the  earthworks.  Certain- 
ly the  Southern  flags  had  a  right  to  wave  defiance  at 
the  besieging  army,  which  was  now  slowly  and  pain- 
fully rising  from  the  snow,  and  lighting  the  fires  anew. 

"Well,  what's  the  program  today,  Dick?"  asked 
Pennington. 

"I  don't  know,  but  it's  quite  certain  that  we  won't 
attempt  another  assault.  It's  hopeless." 

"That's  true,"  said  Warner,  who  was  standing  by, 
"but  we — hark,  what  was  that?" 

The  boom  of  a  cannon  echoed  over  the  fort  and 
forest,  and  then  another  and  another.  To  the  north- 
ward they  saw  thin  black  spires  of  smoke  under  the 
horizon. 

209 


THE    GUNS    OF   SHILOH 

"It's  the  fleet!  It's  the  fleet!"  cried  Warner  joy- 
ously, "coming  up  the  Cumberland  to  our  help!  Oh, 
you  men  of  Donelson,  we're  around  you  now,  and 
you'll  never  shake  us  off!" 

Again  came  the  crash  of  great  guns  from  the  fleet, 
and  the  crash  of  the  Southern  water  batteries  replying. 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE  SOUTHERN  ATTACK 

THE  excitement  in  the  Union  army  was  intense 
and  joyous.  The  cheers  rolled  like  volleys 
among  these  farmer  lads  of  the  West  Dick, 
Warner  and  Pennington  stood  up  and  shouted  with  the 
rest 

"I  should  judge  that  our  chances  of  success  have 
increased  at  least  fifty,  yes  sixty,  per  cent,"  said 
Warner.  "As  we  have  remarked  before,  this  control 
of  the  water  is  a  mighty  thing.  We  fight  the  Johnnie 
Rebs  for  the  land,  but  we  have  the  water  already. 
Look  at  those  gunboats,  will  you?  Aren't  they  the 
sauciest  little  things  you  ever  saw?" 

Once  more  the  navy  was  showing,  as  it  has  always 
shown  throughout  its  career,  its  daring  and  brilliant 
qualities.  Foote,  the  commodore,  although  he  had  had 
no  time  to  repair  his  four  small  fighting  boats  after 
the  encounter  with  Fort  Henry,  steamed  straight  up 
the  river  and  engaged  the  concentric  fire  from  the 
great  guns  of  the  Southern  batteries,  which  opened 
upon  him  with  a  tremendous  crash.  The  boys  watched 

211 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

the  duel  with  amazement.  They  did  not  believe  that 
small  vessels  could  live  under  such  fire,  but  live  they 
did.  Great  columns  of  smoke  floated  over  them  and 
hid  them  at  times  from  the  watchers,  but  when  the 
smoke  lifted  a  little  or  was  split  apart  by  the  shatter- 
ing fire  of  the  guns  the  black  hulls  of  the  gunboats 
always  reappeared,  and  now  they  were  not  more  than 
three  or  four  hundred  yards  from  Donelson. 

"I  take  it  that  this  is  a  coverin'  fire,"  said  Sergeant 
Whitley,  who  stood  by.  "Four  little  vessels  could  not 
expect  to  reduce  such  a  powerful  fortress  as  Donel- 
son. It's  not  Fort  Henry  that  they're  fightin'  now." 

"The  chances  are  at  least  ninety- five  per  cent  in 
favor  of  your  supposition,"  said  Warner. 

The  sergeant's  theory,  in  fact,  was  absolutely  cor- 
rect. Further  down  the  river  the  transports  were 
unloading  regiment  after  regiment  of  fresh  troops,  and 
vast  supplies  of  ammunition  and  provisions.  Soon 
five  thousand  men  were  formed  in  line  and  marched 
to  Grant's  relief,  while  long  lines  of  wagons  brought 
up  the  stores  so  badly  needed.  Now  the  stern  and 
silent  general  was  able  to  make  the  investment  com- 
plete, but  the  fiery  little  fleet  did  not  cease  to  push 
the  attack. 

There  was  a  time  when  it  seemed  that  the  gunboats 
would  be  able  to  pass  the  fortress  and  rake  it  from 
a  point  up  the  river.  Many  of  the  guns  in  the  water 
batteries  had  been  silenced,  but  the  final  achievement 
;was  too  great  for  so  small  a  force.  The  rudder  of 
one  of  Foote's  gunboats  was  shot  away,  the  wheel  of 
another  soon  went  the  same  way,  and  both  drifted 

212 


THE    SOUTHERN    ATTACK 

helplessly  down  the  stream.  The  other  two  then  re- 
treated, and  the  fire  of  both  fort  and  fleet  ceased. 

But  there  was  joy  in  the  Union  camp.  The  soldiers 
had  an  abundance  of  food  now,  and  soon  the  long 
ring  of  fires  showed  that  they  were  preparing  it.  Their 
forces  had  been  increased  a  third,  and  there  was  a 
fresh  outburst  of  courage  and  vigor.  But  Grant  or- 
dered no  more  attacks  at  present.  After  the  men  had 
eaten  and  rested  a  little,  picks  and  spades  were  swung 
along  a  line  miles  in  length.  He  was  fortifying  his 
own  position,  and  it  was  evident  to  his  men  that  he 
meant  to  stay  there  until  he  won  or  was  destroyed. 

Dick  was  conscious  once  more  of  a  sanguine  thrill. 
Like  the  others,  he  felt  the  strong  hand  over  him, 
and  the  certainty  that  they  were  led  with  judgment 
and  decision  made  him  believe  that  all  things  were 
possible.  Yet  the  work  of  fortifying  continued  but 
a  little  while.  The  men  were  exhausted  by  cold  and 
fatigue,  and  were  compelled  to  lay  down  their  tools. 
The  fires  were  built  anew,  and  they  hovered  about 
them  for  shelter  and  rest. 

The  wan  twilight  showed  the  close  of  the  wintry 
day,  and  with  the  increasing  chill  a  part  of  Dick's 
sanguine  feeling  departed.  The  gallant  little  fleet, 
although  it  had  brought  fresh  men  and  supplies  and 
had  protected  their  landing,  had  been  driven  back. 
The  investment  of  the  fort  was  complete  only  on  one 
side  of  the  river,  and  steamers  coming  up  the  Cum- 
berland from  Nashville  might  yet  take  off  the  garrison 
in  safety.  Then  the  work  of  the  silent  general,  all 
their  hardship  and  fighting  would  be  at  least  in  part 

213 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

a  failure.  The  Vermont  youth,  who  seemed  to  be 
always  of  the  same  temper,  neither  very  high  nor  very 
low,  noticed  his  change  of  expression. 

"Don't  let  your  hopes  decrease,  Dick,"  he  said. 
"Remember  that  at  least  twenty  per  cent  of  the  de- 
cline is  due  to  the  darkness  and  inaction.  In  the 
morning,  when  the  light  comes  once  more,  and  we're 
up  and  doing  again,  you'll  get  back  all  the  twenty 
per  cent  you're  losing  now." 

"It's  not  to  be  all  inaction  with  you  boys  tonight, 
even,"  said  Colonel  Winchester,  who  overheard  his 
closing  words.  "I  want  you  three  to  go  with  me  on  a 
tour  of  inspection  or  rather  scouting  duty.  It  may  please 
you  to  know  that  it  is  the  special  wish  of  General 
Grant.  Aware  that  I  had  some  knowledge  of  the 
country,  he  has  detailed  me  for  the  duty,  and  I  choose 
you  as  my  assistants.  I'm  sure  that  the  skill  and 
danger  such  a  task  requires  will  make  you  all  the  more 
eager  for  it" 

The  three  youths  responded  quickly  and  with  zeal, 
and  Sergeant  Whitley,  when  he  was  chosen,  too, 
nodded  in  silent  gratitude.  The  night  was  dark,  over- 
cast with  clouds,  and  in  an  hour  Colonel  Winchester 
with  his  four  departed  upon  his  perilous  mission.  He 
was  to  secure  information  in  regard  to  the  Southern 
army,  and  to  do  that  they  were  to  go  very  near  the 
Southern  lines,  if  not  actually  inside  them.  Such  an 
attempt  would  be  hazardous  in  the  extreme  in  the  face 
of  a  vigilant  watch ;  but  on  the  other  hand  they  would 
be  aided  by  the  fact  that  both  North  and  South  were 
of  like  blood  and  language.  Even  more,  many  of 

214 


THE    SOUTHERN    ATTACK 

those  in  the  opposing  camps  came  from  the  same 
localities,  and  often  were  of  kin. 

Dick's  regiment  had  been  stationed  at  the  southern 
end  of  the  line,  near  the  little  town  of  Dover,  but 
they  now  advanced  northward  and  westward,  march- 
ing for  a  long  time  along  their  inner  line.  It  was 
Colonel  Winchester's  intention  to  reach  Hickman 
Creek,  which  formed  their  northern  barrier,  creep  in 
the  fringe  of  bushes  on  its  banks,  and  then  approach 
the  fort. 

When  they  reached  the  desired  point  the  night  was 
well  advanced,  and  yet  dark  with  the  somber  clouds 
hanging  over  river  and  fort  and  field  of  battle.  The 
wind  blew  out  6f  the  northwest,  sharp  and  intensely 
cold.  The  snow  crunched  under  their  feet.  But  the 
four  had  wrapped  themselves  in  heavy  overcoats,  and 
they  were  so  engrossed  in  their  mission  that  neither 
wind  nor  snow  was  anything  to  them. 

They  passed  along  the  bank  of  the  creek,  keeping 
well  within  the  shadow  of  the  bushes,  leaving  behind 
them  the  last  outpost  of  the  Union  army,  and  then 
slowly  drew  near  to  the  fort.  They  saw  before  them 
many  lights  burning  in  the  darkness,  and  at  last  they 
discerned  dim  figures  walking  back  and  forth.  Dick 
knew  that  these  were  the  Southern  sentinels.  The 
four  went  a  little  nearer,  and  then  crouched  down  in 
the  snow  among  some  low  bushes. 

Now  they  saw  the  Southern  sentinels  more  dis- 
tinctly. Some,  in  fact,  were  silhouetted  sharply  as 
they  passed  before  the  Southern  fires.  Northern 
sharpshooters  could  have  crept  up  and  picked  off  many 

215 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

of  them,  as  the  Southern  sharpshooters  in  turn  might 
have  served  many  of  the  Northern  watchers,  but  in 
this  mighty  war  there  was  little  of  such  useless  and 
merciless  enterprise.  The  men  soon  ceased  to  have 
personal  animosity,  and,  in  the  nights  between  the 
great  battles,  when  the  armies  yet  lay  face  to  face, 
the  hostile  pickets  would  often  exchange  gossip  and 
tobacco.  Even  in  a  conflict  waged  so  long  and  with 
such  desperation  the  essential  kindliness  of  human 
nature  would  assert  itself. 

The  four,  as  they  skirted  the  Southern  line,  noticed 
no  signs  of  further  preparations  by  the  Confederates. 
No  men  were  throwing  up  earthworks  or  digging 
trenches.  As  well  as  they  could  surmise,  the  garrison, 
like  the  besieging  army,  was  seeking  shelter  and  rest, 
and  from  this  fact  the  keen  mind  of  Colonel  Arthur 
Winchester  divined  that  the  defense  was  confused  and 
headless. 

Colonel  Winchester  knew  most  of  the  leaders  within 
Donelson.  He  knew  that  Pillow  was  not  of  a  strong 
and  decided  nature.  Nor  was  Floyd,  who  would  rank 
first,  of  great  military  capacity.  Buckner  had  talent 
and  he  had  served  gallantly  in  the  Mexican  War,  but 
he  could  not  prevail  over  the  others.  The  fame  of 
Forrest,  the  Tennessee  mountaineer,  was  already 
spreading,  but  a  cavalryman  could  do  little  for  the 
defense  of  a  fort  besieged  by  twenty  thousand  well- 
equipped  men,  led  by  a  general  of  unexcelled  reso- 
lution. 

All  that  Colonel  Winchester  surmised  was  true.  In- 
side the  fort  confusion  and  doubt  reigned.  The  flee- 

216 


THE    SOUTHERN    ATTACK 

ing  garrison  from  Fort  Henry  had  brought  exagger- 
ated reports  of  Grant's  army.  Very  few  of  the 
thousands  of  young  troops  had  ever  been  in  battle 
before.  They,  too,  suffered  though  in  a  less  degree 
from  cold  and  fatigue,  but  many  were  wounded. 
Pillow  and  Floyd,  who  had  just  arrived  with  his 
troops,  talked  of  one  thing  and  then  another.  Floyd, 
who  might  have  sent  word  to  his  valiant  and  able 
chief,  Johnston,  did  not  take  the  trouble  or  forgot  to 
inform  him  of  his  position.  Buckner  wanted  to 
attack  Grant  the  next  morning  with  the  full  Southern 
strength,  and  a  comrade  of  his  on  old  battlefields, 
Colonel  George  Kenton,  seconded  him  ably.  The 
black-bearded  Forrest  strode  back  and  forth,  striking 
the  tops  of  his  riding  boots  with  a  small  riding  whip, 
and  saying  ungrammatically,  but  tersely  and  emphati- 
cally : 

"We  mustn't  stay  here  like  hogs  in  a  pen.  We 
must  git  at  'em  with  all  our  men  afore  they  can  git 
at  us." 

The  illiterate  mountaineer  and  stock  driver  had 
evolved  exactly  the  same  principle  of  war  that  Na- 
poleon used. 

But  Colonel  Winchester  and  his  comrades  could 
only  guess  at  what  was  going  on  in  Donelson,  and  a 
guess  always  remains  to  be  proved.  So  they  must 
continue  their  perilous  quest.  Once  they  were  hailed 
by  a  Southern  sentinel,  but  Colonel  Winchester  re- 
plied promptly  that  they  belonged  to  Buckner's  Ken- 
tuckians  and  had  been  sent  out  to  examine  the  Union 
camp.  He  passed  it  off  with  such  boldness  and  de- 

217 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

cision  that  they  were  gone  before  the  picket  had  time 
to  express  a  doubt. 

But  as  they  came  toward  the  center  of  the  line,  and 
drew  nearer  to  the  fort  itself,  they  met  another  picket, 
who  was  either  more  watchful  or  more  acute.  He 
hailed  them  at  a  range  of  forty  or  fifty  yards,  and 
when  Colonel  Winchester  made  the  same  reply  he 
ordered  them  to  halt  and  give  the  countersign.  When 
no  answer  came  he  fired  instantly  at  the  tall  figure 
of  Colonel  Winchester  and  uttered  a  loud  cry  of, 
"Yankees!" 

Luckily  the  dim  light  was  tricky  and  his  bullet 
merely  clipped  the  colonel's  hair.  But  there  was 
nothing  for  the  four  to  do  now  save  to  run  with  all 
their  undignified  might  for  their  own  camp. 

"Come  on,  lads!"  shouted  Colonel  Winchester. 
"Our  scouting  is  over  for  the  time!" 

The  region  behind  them  contained  patches  of  scrub 
oaks  and  bushes,  and  with  their  aid  and  that  of  the 
darkness,  it  was  not  difficult  to  escape ;  but  Dick,  while 
running  just  behind  the  others,  stepped  in  a  hole  and 
fell.  The  snow  and  the  dead  leaves  hid  the  sound  of 
his  fall  and  the  others  did  not  notice  it.  As  he  looked 
up  he  saw  their  dim  forms  disappearing  among  the 
bushes.  He  rose  to  his  own  feet,  but  uttered  a  little 
cry  as  a  ligament  in  his  ankle  sent  a  warning  throb 
of  pain  through  his  body. 

It  was  not  a  wrench,  only  a  bruise,  and  as  he 
stretched  his  ankle  a  few  times  the  soreness  went 
away.  But  the  last  sound  made  by  the  retreating  foot- 
steps of  his  comrades  had  died,  and  their  place 

218 


THE    SOUTHERN   ATTACK 

had  been  taken  by  those  of  his  pursuers,  who  were 
now  drawing  very  near. 

Dick  had  no  intention  of  being  captured,  and,  turn- 
ing off  at  a  right  angle,  he  dropped  into  a  gully  which 
he  encountered  among  some  bushes.  The  gully  was 
about  four  feet  deep  and  half  full  of  snow.  Dick 
threw  himself  full  length  on  his  side,  and  sank  down 
in  the  snow  until  he  was  nearly  covered.  There  he 
lay  panting  hard  for  a  few  moments,  but  quite  sure 
that  he  was  safe  from  discovery.  Only  a  long  and 
most  minute  search  would  be  likely  to  reveal  the 
dark  line  in  the  snow  beneath  the  overhanging 
bushes. 

Dick's  heart  presently  resumed  its  normal  beat,  and' 
then  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  and  footsteps. 
Some  one  said: 

"They  went  this  way,  sir,  but  they  were  running 
pretty  fast." 

"They'd  good  cause  to  run,"  said  a  brusque  voice. 
"You'd  a  done  it,  too,  if  you'd  expected  to  have  the 
bullets  of  a  whole  army  barkin'  at  your  heels." 

The  footsteps  came  nearer,  crunching  on  the  snow, 
which  lay  deep  there  among  the  bushes.  They  could 
not  be  more  than  a  dozen  feet  away,  but  Dick  quivered 
only  a  little.  Buried  as  he  was  and  with  the  hanging 
bushes  over  him  he  was  still  confident  that  no  one 
could  see  him.  He  raised  himself  the  least  bit,  and 
looking  through  the  boughs,  saw  a  tanned  and  dark 
face  under  the  broad  brim  of  a  Confederate  hat.  Just 
then  some  one  said : 

"We  might  have  trailed  'em,  general,  but  the  snow 

219 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

an'  the  earth  have  already  been  tramped  all  up  by  the 
army. " 

"They're  not  wuth  huntin'  long  anyway,"  said  the 
same  brusque  voice.  "A  few  Yankees  prowlin'  about 
in  the  night  can't  do  us  much  harm.  It's  hard  fightin' 
that'll  settle  our  quarrel." 

General  Forrest  came  a  little  closer  and  Dick,  from 
his  concealment  in  the  snow,  surmising  his  identity, 
saw  him  clearly,  although  himself  unseen.  He  was 
fascinated  by  the  stern,  dark  countenance.  The  face 
of  the  unlettered  mountaineer  was  cut  sharp  and  clear, 
and  he  had  the  look  of  one  who  knew  and  commanded. 
In  war  he  was  a  natural  leader  of  men,  and  he  had 
already  assumed  the  position. 

"Don't  you  agree  with  me,  colonel?"  he  said  over 
his  shoulder  to  some  one. 

"I  think  you're  right  as  usual,  General  Forrest," 
replied  a  voice  with  a  cultivated  intonation,  and  Dick 
started  violently  in  his  bed  of  snow,  because  he  in- 
stantly recognized  the  voice  as  that  of  his  uncle, 
Colonel  George  Kenton,  Harry's  father.  A  moment 
later  Colonel  Kenton  himself  stood  where  the  moon- 
light fell  upon  his  face.  Dick  saw  that  he  was  worn 
and  thin,  but  his  face  had  the  strong  and  resolute  look 
characteristic  of  those  descended  from  Henry  Ware, 
the  great  borderer. 

"You  know,  general,  that  I  endorse  all  your  views," 
continued  Colonel  Kenton.  "We  are  unfortunate  here 
in  having  a  division  of  counsels,  while  the  Yankees 
have  a  single  and  strong  head.  We  have  underrated 
this  man  Grant.  Look  how  he  surprised  us  and  took 

220 


THE    SOUTHERN   ATTACK 

Henry!  Look  how  he  hangs  on  here!  We've  beaten 
him  on  land  and  we've  driven  back  his  fleet,  but  he 
hangs  on.  To  my  mind  he  has  no  notion  of  retreating. 
He'll  keep  on  pounding  us  as  long  as  we  are  here." 

"That's  his  way,  an'  it  ought  to  be  the  way  of  every 
general,"  growled  Forrest.  "You  cut  down  a  tree  by 
keepin'  on  cuttin'  out  chips  with  an  axe,  an'  you  smash 
up  an  army  by  hittin'  an'  hittin'  an'  keepin'  on  hittin'. 
We  ought  to  charge  right  out  of  our  works  an'  jump 
on  the  Yankees  with  all  our  stren'th." 

The  two  walked  on,  followed  by  the  soldiers  who 
had  come  with  them,  and  Dick  heard  no  more.  But 
he  was  too  cautious  to  stir  for  a  long  while.  He  lay 
there  until  the  cold  began  to  make  its  way  through 
his  boots  and  heavy  overcoat.  Then  he  rose  care- 
fully, brushed  off  the  snow,  and  began  his  retreat 
toward  the  Union  lines.  Four  or  five  hundred  yards 
further  on  and  he  met  Colonel  Winchester  and  his  own 
comrades  come  back  to  search  for  him.  They  wel- 
comed him  joyfully. 

"We  did  not  miss  you  until  we  were  nearly  to  our 
own  pickets,"  said  the  colonel.  "Then  we  concluded 
that  you  had  fallen  and  had  been  taken  by  the  enemy, 
but  we  intended  to  see  if  we  could  find  you.  We've 
been  hovering  about  here  for  some  time. " 

Dick  told  what  he  had  seen  and  heard,  and  the 
colonel  considered  it  of  much  importance. 

"I  judge  from  what  you  heard  that  they  will  attack 
us,"  he  said.  "Buckner  and  Forrest  will  be  strongly 
for  it,  and  they're  likely  to  have  their  way.  We  must 
report  at  once  to  General  Grant. " 

221 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

The  Southern  attack  had  been  planned  for  the  next 
morning,  but  it  did  not  come  then.  Pillow,  for  rea- 
sons unknown,  decided  to  delay  another  day,  and  his 
fiery  subordinates  could  do  nothing  but  chafe  and 
wait.  Dick  spent  most  of  the  day  carrying  orders 
for  his  chief,  and  the  continuous  action  steadied  his 
nerves. 

As  he  passed  from  point  to  point  he  saw  that  the 
Union  army  itself  was  far  from  ready.  It  was  a 
difficult  task  to  get  twenty  thousand  raw  farmer 
youths  in  proper  position.  They  moved  about  often 
without  cohesion  and  sometimes  without  understand- 
ing their  orders.  Great  gaps  remained  in  the  line,  and 
a  daring  and  skilful  foe  might  cut  the  besieging  force 
asunder. 

But  Grant  had  put  his  heavy  guns  in  place,  and 
throughout  the  day  he  maintained  a  slow  but  steady 
fire  upon  the  fort.  Great  shells  and  solid  shot  curved 
and  fell  upon  Donelson.  Grant  did  not  know  what 
damage  they  were  doing,  but  he  shrewdly  calculated 
that  they  would  unsteady  the  nerves  of  the  raw  troops 
within.  These  farmer  boys,  as  they  heard  the  unceas- 
ing menace  of  the  big  guns,  would  double  the  numbers 
of  their  foe,  and  attribute  to  him  an  unrelaxing 
energy. 

Thus  another  gray  day  of  winter  wore  away,  and 
the  two  forces  drew  a  little  nearer  to  each  other.  Far 
away  the  rival  Presidents  at  Washington  and  Rich- 
mond were  wondering  what  was  happening  to  their 
armies  in  the  dark  wilderness  of  Western  Tennessee. 

The  night  was  more  quiet  than  the  one  that  had  just 
222 


THE    SOUTHERN    ATTACK 

gone  before.  The  booming  of  the  cannon  as  regular 
as  the  tolling  of  funeral  bells  had  ceased  with  the  dark- 
ness, but  in  its  place  the  fierce  winter  wind  had  begun 
to  blow  again.  Dick,  relaxed  and  weary  after  his 
day's  work,  hovered  over  one  of  the  fires  and  was 
grateful  for  the  warmth.  He  had  trodden  miles 
through  slush  and  snow  and  frozen  earth,  and  he  was 
plastered  to  the  waist  with  frozen  mud,  which  now 
began  to  soften  and  fall  off  before  the  coals. 

Warner,  who  had  been  on  active  duty,  too,  also 
sank  to  rest  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"It's  battle  tomorrow,  Dick,"  he  said,  "and  I  don't 
care.  As  it  didn't  come  off  today  the  chances  are  at 
least  eighty  per  cent  that  it  will  happen  the  next  day. 
You  say  that  when  you  were  lying  in  the  snow  last 
night,  Dick,  you  saw  your  uncle  and  that  he's  a  colonel 
in  the  rebel  army.  It's  queer." 

"You're  wrong,  George,  it  isn't  queer.  We're  on 
opposite  sides,  serving  at  the  same  place,  and  it's 
natural  that  we  should  meet  some  time  or  other.  Oh, 
I  tell  you,  you  fellows  from  the  New  England  and 
the  other  Northern  States  don't  appreciate  the  sacri- 
fices that  we  of  the  border  states  make  for  the  Union. 
Up  there  you  are  safe  from  invasion.  Your  houses 
are  not  on  the  battlefields.  You  are  all  on  one  side. 
You  don't  have  to  fight  against  your  own  kind,  the 
people  you  hold  most  dear.  And  when  the  war  is  over, 
whether  we  win  or  lose,  you'll  go  back  to  unravaged 
regions." 

"You  wrong  me  there,  Dick.  I  have  thought  of  it 
It's  the  people  of  the  border,  whether  North  or  South, 

223 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

who  pay  the  biggest  price.  We  risk  our  lives,  but 
you  risk  your  lives  also,  and  everything  else,  too." 

Dick  wrapped  himself  in  a  heavy  blanket,  pillowed 
his  head  on  a  log  before  one  of  the  fires  and  dozed 
a  while.  His  nerves  had  been  tried  too  hard  to  permit 
of  easy  sleep.  He  awoke  now  and  then  and  over  a 
wide  area  saw  the  sinking  fires  and  the  moving  forms 
of  men.  He  felt  that  a  sense  of  uneasiness  pervaded 
the  officers.  He  knew  that  many  of  them  considered 
their  forces  inadequate  for  the  siege  of  a  fortress  de- 
fended by  a  large  army,  but  he  felt  with  the  sincerity 
of  conviction  also,  that  Grant  would  never  withdraw. 

He  heard  from  Colonel  Winchester  about  midnight 
in  one  of  his  wakeful  intervals  that  General  Grant 
was  going  down  the  river  to  see  Commodore  Foote. 
The  brave  leader  of  the  fleet  had  been  wounded 
severely  in  the  last  fight  with  the  fort,  and  the  general 
wished  to  confer  with  him  about  the  plan  of  opera- 
tions. But  Dick  heard  only  vaguely.  The  statement 
made  no  impression  upon  him  at  that  time.  Yet  he 
was  conscious  that  the  feeling  of  uneasiness  still  per- 
vaded the  officers.  He  noticed  it  in  Colonel  Winches- 
ter's tone,  and  he  noticed  it,  too,  in  the  voices  of 
Colonel  Newcomb  and  Major  Hertford,  who  came 
presently  to  confer  with  Winchester. 

But  the  boy  fell  into  his  doze  again,  while  they  were 
talking.  Warner  and  Pennington,  who  had  done  less 
arduous  duties,  were  sound  asleep  near  him,  the  low 
flames  now  and  then  throwing  a  red  light  on  their 
tanned  faces.  It  seemed  to  him  that  it  was  about 
half  way  between  midnight  and  morning,  and  the 

224 


THE    SOUTHERN    ATTACK 

hum  and  murmur  had  sunk  to  a  mere  minor  note. 
But  his  sleepy  eyes  still  saw  the  dim  forms  of  men 
passing  about,  and  then  he  fell  into  his  uneasy  doze 
again. 

When  he  awoke  once  more  it  was  misty  and  dark, 
but  he  felt  that  the  dawn  was  near.  In  the  east  a 
faint  tint  of  silver  showed  through  the  clouds  and 
vapors.  Heavy  banks  of  fog  were  rising  from  the 
Cumberland  and  the  flooded  marshes.  The  earth  be- 
gan to  soften  as  if  unlocking  from  the  hard  frost  of 
the  night. 

Colonel  Winchester  stood  near  him  and  his  position 
showed  that  he  was  intensely  awake.  He  was  bent 
slightly  forward,  and  every  nerve  and  muscle  was 
•strained  as  if  he  were  eager  to  see  and  hear  something 
which  he  knew  was  there,  but  which  he  could  not  yet 
either  see  or  hear. 

Dick  threw  off  his  blanket  and  sprang  to  his  feet. 
At  the  same  moment  Colonel  Winchester  motioned 
him  to  awaken  Warner  and  Pennington,  which  he  did 
at  once  in  speed  and  silence.  That  tint  of  silver,  the 
lining  of  the  fogs  and  vapors,  shone  more  clearly 
through,  and  spread  across  the  East.  Dick  knew  now 
that  the  dawn  was  at  hand. 

The  loud  but  mellow  notes  of  a  trumpet  came  from 
a  distant  point  toward  Donelson,  and  then  others  to 
right  and  left  joined  and  sang  the  same  mellow  song. 
But  it  lasted  only  for  a  minute.  Then  it  was  lost 
in  the  rapid  crackle  of  rifles,  which  spread  like  a  run- 
ning fire  along  a  front  of  miles.  The  sun  in  the  east 
swung  clear  of  the  earth,  its  beams  shooting  a  way 

225 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHTLOH 

through  fogs  and  vapors.     The  dawn  had  come  and 
the  attack  had  come  with  it 

The  Southerners,  ready  at  last,  were  rushing  from 
their  fort  and  works,  and,  with  all  the  valor  and  fire 
that  distinguished  them  upon  countless  occasions,  they 
were  hurling  themselves  upon  their  enemy.  The  fort- 
ress poured  out  regiment  after  regiment.  Chafing  so 
long  upon  the  defense  Southern  youth  was  now  at 
its  best.  Attacking,  not  attacked,  the  farmer  lads  felt 
the  spirit  of  battle  blaze  high  in  their  breasts.  The 
long,  terrible  rebel  yell,  destined  to  be  heard  upon  so 
many  a  desperate  field,  fierce  upon  its  lower  note,  fierce 
upon  its  higher  note,  as  fierce  as  ever  upon  its  dying 
note,  and  coming  back  in  echoes  still  as  fierce,  swelled 
over  forest  and  fort,  marsh  and  river. 

The  crackling  fire  of  the  pickets  ceased.  They  had 
been  driven  back  in  a  few  moments  upon  the  army, 
but  the  whole  regiment  of  Colonel  -Winchester  was 
now  up,  rifle  in  hand,  and  on  either  side  of  it,  other 
regiments  steadied  themselves  also  to  receive  the  liv- 
ing torrent 

The  little  band  of  Pennsylvanians  were  on  the  left 
of  the  Kentuckians  and  were  practically  a  part  of 
them.  Colonel  Newcomb  and  Major  Hertford  stood 
amid  their  men,  encouraging  them  to  receive  the  shock. 
But  Dick  had  time  for  only  a  glance  at  these  old 
comrades  of  his.  The  Southern  wave,  crested  with 
fire  and  steel,  was  rolling  swiftly  upon  them,  and  as  the 
Southern  troops  rushed  on  they  began  to  fire  as  fast 
as  they  could  pull  the  trigger,  fire  and  pull  again. 

Bullets  in  sheets  struck  in  the  Union  ranks.    Hun- 
226 


dreds  of  men  went  down.  Dick  heard  the  thud  of 
lead  and  steel  on  flesh,  and  the  sudden  cries  of  those 
who  were  struck.  It  needs  no  small  courage  to  hold 
fast  against  more  than  ten  thousand  men  rushing  for- 
ward at  full  speed  and  bent  upon  victory  or  death. 

Dick  felt  all  the  pulses  in  his  temples  beating  hard, 
and  he  had  a  horrible  impulse  to  break  and  run,  but 
pride  kept  him  firm.  As  an  officer,  he  had  a  small 
sword,  and  snatching  it  out  he  waved  it,  while  at  the 
same  time  he  shouted  to  the  men  to  meet  the  charge. 

The  Union  troops  returned  the  fire.  Thousands  of 
bullets  were  sent  against  the  ranks  of  the  rushing 
enemy.  The  gunners  sprang  to  their  guns  and  the 
deep  roar  of  the  cannon  rose  above  the  crash  of  the 
small  arms.  But  the  Southern  troops,  the  rebel  yell 
still  rolling  through  the  woods,  came  on  at  full  speed 
and  struck  the  Union  front. 

'It  seemed  to  Dick  that  he  was  conscious  of  an  actual 
physical  shock.  Tanned  faces  and  gleaming  eyes  were 
almost  against  his  own.  He  looked  into  the  muzzles 
of  rifles,  and  he  saw  the  morning  sun  flashing  along 
the  edges  of  bayonets.  But  the  regiment,  although 
torn  by  bullets,  did  not  give  ground.  The  charge 
shivered  against  them,  and  the  Southern  troops  fell 
back.  Yet  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  They  came 
again  to  be  driven  back  as  before,  and  then  once  more 
they  charged,  while  their  resolute  foe  swung  forward 
to  meet  them  rank  to  rank. 

Dick  was  not  conscious  of  much  except  that  he 
shouted  continuously  to  the  men  to  stand  firm,  and 
wondered  now  and  then  why  he  had  not  been  hit.  The 

227 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Union  men  and  their  enemy  were  reeling  back  and 
forth,  neither  winning,  neither  losing,  while  the  thun- 
der of  battle  along  a  long  and  curving  front  beat 
heavily  on  the  drums  of  every  ear.  The  smoke,  low 
down,  was  scattered  by  the  cannon  and  rifles,  but 
above  it  gathered  in  a  great  cloud  that  seemed  to  be 
shot  with  fire. 

The  two  colonels,  Winchester  and  Newcomb,  were 
able  and  valiant  men.  Despite  their  swelling  losses 
they  always  filled  up  the  ranks  and  held  fast  to  the 
ground  upon  which  they  had  stood  when  they  were 
attacked.  But  for  the  present  they  had  no  knowledge 
how  the  battle  was  going  elsewhere.  The  enemy  just 
before  them  allowed  no  idle  moments. 

Yet  Grant,  as  happened  later  on  at  Shiloh,  was 
taken  by  surprise.  When  the  first  roar  of  the  battle 
broke  with  the  dawn  he  was  away  conferring  with 
the  wounded  naval  commander,  Foote.  His  right, 
under  McClernand,  had  been  caught  napping,  and 
eight  thousand  Southern  troops  striking  it  with  a  tre- 
mendous impact  just  as  the  men  snatched  up  their 
arms,  drove  it  back  in  heavy  loss  and  confusion.  Its 
disaster  was  increased  when  a  Southern  general,  Bald- 
win, led  a  strong  column  down  a  deep  ravine  near  the 
river  and  suddenly  hurled  it  upon  the  wavering  Union 
flank. 

Whole  regiments  retreated  now,  and  guns  were  lost. 
The  Southern  officers,  their  faces  glowing,  shouted  to 
each  other  that  the  battle  was  won.  And  still  the  com- 
bat raged  without  the  Union  commander,  Grant,  al- 
though he  was  coming  now  as  fast  as  he  could  with 

228 


THE    SOUTHERN   ATTACK 

the  increasing  roar  of  conflict  to  draw  him  on.  Thg 
battle  was  lost  to  the  North.  But  it  might  be  won 
back  again  by  a  general  who  would  not  quit.  Only 
the  bulldog  in  Grant,  the  tenacious  death  grip,  could 
save  him  now. 

Dick  and  his  friends  suddenly  became  conscious  that 
both  on  their  right  and  left  the  thunder  of  battle  was 
moving  back  upon  the  Union  camp.  They  realized 
now  that  they  were  only  the  segment  of  a  circle  ex- 
tending forward  practically  within  the  Union  lines, 
and  that  the  combat  was  going  against  them.  The 
word  was  given  to  retreat,  lest  they  be  surrounded, 
and  they  fell  back  slowly  disputing  with  desperation 
every  foot  of  ground  that  they  gave  up.  Yet  they 
left  many  fallen  behind.  A  fourth  of  the  regiment 
had  been  killed  or  wounded  already,  and  there  were 
tears  in  the  eyes  of  Colonel  Winchester  as  he  looked 
over  the  torn  ranks  of  his  gallant  men. 

Now  the  Southerners,  meaning  to  drive  victory 
home,  were  bringing  up  their  reserves  and  pouring 
fresh  troops  upon  the  shattered  Union  front.  They 
would  have  swept  everything  away,  but  in  the  nick 
of  time  a  fresh  Union  brigade  arrived  also,  sup- 
ported the  yielding  forces  and  threw  itself  upon  the 
enemy. 

But  Grant  had  not  yet  come.  It  seemed  that  in 
the  beginning  fortune  played  against  this  man  of 
destiny,  throwing  all  her  tricks  in  favor  of  his  oppo- 
nents. The  single  time  that  he  was  away  the  attack 
had  been  made,  and  if  he  would  win  back  a  lost  battle 
there  was  great  need  to  hurry. 

229 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

The  Southern  troops,  exultant  and  full  of  fire  and 
spirit,  continually  rolled  back  their  adversaries.  They 
wheeled  more  guns  from  the  fort  into  position  and 
opened  heavily  on  the  yielding  foe.  If  they  were 
beaten  back  at  any  time  they  always  came  on  again,  a 
restless  wave,  crested  with  fire  and  steel. 

Dick's  regiment  continued  to  give  ground  slowly. 
It  had  no  choice  but  to  do  so  or  be  destroyed.  It 
seemed  to  him  now  that  he  beheld  the  wreck  of  all 
things.  Was  this  to  be  Bull  Run  over  again?  His 
throat  and  eyes  burned  from  the  smoke  and  powder, 
and  his  face  was  black  with  grime.  His  lips  were 
like  fire  to  the  touch  of  each  other.  He  staggered  in 
the  smoke  against  some  one  and  saw  that  it  was 
Warner. 

"Have  we  lost?"  he  cried.  "Have  we  lost  after 
doing  so  much?" 

The  lips  of  the  Vermonter  parted  in  a  kind  of  sav- 
age grin. 

"I  won't  say  we've  lost,"  he  shouted  in  reply,  "but 
I  can't  see  anything  we've  won." 

Then  he  lost  Warner  in  the  smoke  and  the  regiment 
retreated  yet  further.  It  was  impossible  to  preserve 
cohesion  or  keep  a  line  formed.  The  Southerners 
never  ceased  to  press  upon  them  with  overwhelming 
weight.  Pillow,  now  decisive  in  action,  continually 
accumulated  new  forces  upon  the  Northern  right 
Every  position  that  McClernand  had  held  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  battle  was  now  taken,  and  the  Confederate 
general  was  planning  to  surround  and  destroy  the 
whole  Union  army.  Already  he  was  sending  mes- 

230 


THE    SOUTHERN    ATTACK 

sengers  to  the  telegraph  with  news  for  Johnston  of 
his  complete  victory. 

But  the  last  straw  had  not  yet  been  laid  upon  the 
camel's  back.  McClernand  was  beaten,  but  the  hardy 
men  of  Kentucky,  East  Tennessee  and  the  northwest 
still  offered  desperate  resistance.  Conspicuous  among 
the  defenders  was  the  regiment  of  young  pioneers 
from  Nebraska,  hunters,  Indian  fighters,  boys  of 
twenty  or  less,  who  had  suffered  already  every  form 
of  hardship.  They  stood  undaunted  amid  the  showers 
of  bullets  and  shells  and  cried  to  the  others  to  stand 
with  them. 

Yet  the  condition  of  the  Union  army  steadily  grew 
worse.  Dick  himself,  in  all  the  smoke  and  shouting 
and  confusion,  could  see  it.  The  regiments  that 
formed  the  core  of  resistance  were  being  pared  down 
continually.  There  was  a  steady  dribble  of  fugitives 
to  the  rear,  and  those  who  fought  felt  themselves 
going  back  always,  like  one  who  slips  on  ice. 

The  sun,  far  up  the  heavens,  now  poured  down 
beams  upon  the  vast  cloud  of  smoke  and  vapor  in 
which  the  two  armies  fought.  The  few  people  left 
in  Dover,  red  hot  for  the  South,  cheered  madly  as  they 
saw  their  enemy  driven  further  and  further  away. 

Grant,  the  man  of  destiny,  ill  clad  and  insignificant 
in  appearance,  now  came  upon  the  field  and  saw  his 
beaten  army.  But  the  bulldog  in  him  shut  down  its 
teeth  and  resolved  to  replace  defeat  with  victory.  His 
greatest  qualities,  strength  and  courage  in  the  face 
of  disaster,  were  now  about  to  shine  forth.  His 
countenance  showed  no  alarm.  He  rode  among  the 

231 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

men  cheering  them  to  renewed  efforts.  He  strength- 
ened the  weak  places  in  the  line  that  his  keen  eyes 
saw.  He  infused  a  new  spirit  into  the  army.  His 
own  iron  temper  took  possession  of  the  troops,  and 
that  core  of  resistance,  desperate  when  he  came,  sud- 
denly hardened  and  enlarged. 

Dick  felt  the  change.  It  was  of  the  mind,  but  it 
was  like  a  cool  breath  upon  the  face.  It  was  as  if  the 
winds  had  begun  to  blow  courage.  A  great  shout 
rolled  along  the  Northern  line. 

"Grant  has  come!"  exclaimed  Pennington,  who  was 
bleeding  from  a  slight  wound  in  the  shoulder,  but  who 
was  unconscious  of  it.  "And  we've  quit  retreating!" 

The  Nebraska  youth  had  divined  the  truth.  Just 
when  a  complete  Southern  victory  seemed  to  be 
certain  the  reversal  of  fortune  came.  The  coolness, 
the  courage,  and  the  comprehensive  eye  of  Grant 
restored  the  battle  for  the  North.  The  Southern 
reserves  had  not  charged  with  the  fire  and  spirit  ex- 
pected, and,  met  with  a  shattering  fire  by  the  Indiana 
troops,  they  fell  back.  Grant  saw  the  opportunity,  and 
massing  every  available  regiment,  he  hurled  it  upon 
Pillow  and  the  Southern  center. 

Dick  felt  the  wild  thrill  of  exultation  as  they  went 
forward  instead  of  going  back,  as  they  had  done  for 
so  many  hours.  Just  in  front  of  him  was  Colonel 
Winchester,  waving  aloft  a  sword,  the  blade  of  which 
had  been  broken  in  two  by  a  bullet,  and  calling  to  his 
men  to  come  on.  Warner  and  Pennington,  grimed 
with  smoke  and  mud  and  stained  here  and  there  with 
blood,  were  near  also,  shouting  wildly. 

232 


THE    SOUTHERN    ATTACK 

The  smoke  split  asunder  for  a  moment,  and  Dick 
saw  the  long  line  of  charging  troops.  It  seemed  to  be 
a  new  army  now,  infused  with  fresh  spirit  and  cour- 
age, and  every  pulse  in  the  boy's  body  began  to  beat 
heavily  with  the  hope  of  victory.  The  smoke  closed 
in  again  and  then  came  the  shock. 

Exhausted  by  their  long  efforts  which  had  brought 
victory  so  near  the  Southern  troops  gave  way.  Their 
whole  center  was  driven  in,  and  they  lost  foot  by 
foot  the  ground  that  they  had  gained  with  so  much 
courage  and  blood.  Grant  saw  his  success  and  he 
pressed  more  troops  upon  his  weakening  enemy.  The 
batteries  were  pushed  forward  and  raked  the  shattered 
Southern  lines. 

Pillow,  who  had  led  the  attack  instead  of  Floyd, 
seeing  his  fortunes  pass  so  suddenly  from  the  zenith 
to  the  nadir,  gathered  his  retreating  army  upon  a  hill 
in  front  of  their  intrenchments,  but  he  was  not  per- 
mitted to  rest  there.  A  fresh  Northern  brigade,  a 
reserve,  had  just  arrived  upon  the  field.  Joining  it 
to  the  forces  of  Lew  Wallace,  afterwards  famous  as 
a  novelist,  Grant  hurled  the  entire  division  upon  Pil- 
low's weakened  and  discouraged  army. 

Winchester's  regiment  joined  in  the  attack.  Dick 
felt  himself  swept  along  as  if  by  a  torrent.  His 
courage  and  the  courage  of  those  around  him  was 
all  the  greater  now,  because  hope,  sanguine  hope,  had 
suddenly  shot  up  from  the  very  depths  of  despair. 
Their  ranks  had  been  thinned  terribly,  but  they  forgot 
it  for  the  time  and  rushed  upon  their  enemy. 

The  battle  had  rolled  back  and  forth  for  hours. 

233 


THE   GUNS    OP   SHILOH 

Noon  had  come  and  passed.  The  troops  of  Pillow 
had  been  fighting  without  ceasing  for  six  hours,  and 
they  could  not  withstand  the  new  attack  made  with 
such  tremendous  spirit  and  energy.  They  fought  with 
desperation,  but  they  were  compelled  at  last  to  yield 
the  field  and  retreat  within  their  works.  Their  right 
and  left  suffered  the  same  fate.  The  whole  Confeder- 
ate attack  was  repulsed.  Bull  Run  was  indeed  re- 
versed. There  the  South  snatched  victory  from  de- 
feat and  here  the  North  came  back  with  a  like  triumph. 


CHAPTER    XII 
GRANT'S  GREAT  VICTORY 

THE  night,  early  and  wintry,  put  an  end  to  the 
conflict,  the  fiercest  and  greatest  yet  seen  in 
the  West.  Thousands  of  dead  and  wounded 
lay  upon  the  field  and  the  hearts  of  the  Southern 
leaders  were  full  of  bitterness.  They  had  seen  the 
victory,  won  by  courage  and  daring,  taken  from  them, 
at  the  very  last  moment.  The  farmer  lads  whom  they 
led  had  fought  with  splendid  courage  and  tenacity. 
Defeat  was  no  fault  of  theirs.  It  belonged  rather  to 
the  generals,  among  whom  had  been  a  want  of  under- 
standing and  concert,  fatal  on  the  field  of  action. 
They  saw,  too,  that  they  had  lost  more  than  the  battle. 
The  Union  army  had  not  only  regained  all  its  lost 
positions,  but  on  the  right  it  had  carried  the  Southern 
intrenchments,  and  from  that  point  Grant's  great  guns 
could  dominate  Donelson.  They  foresaw  with  dismay 
the  effect  of  these  facts  upon  their  young  troops. 

When  the  night  fell,  and  the  battle  ceased,  save  for 
the  fitful  boom  of  cannon  along  the  lines,  Dick  sank 
against  an  earthwork,  exhausted.  He  panted  for 
breath  and  was  without  the  power  to  move.  He  re- 

235 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

garded  vaguely  the  moving  lights  that  had  begun  to 
show  in  the  darkness,  and  he  heard  without  compre- 
hension the  voices  of  men  and  the  fitful  fire  of  the 
cannon.  / 

"Steady,  Dick!  Steady!"  said  a  cheerful  voice. 
"Now  is  the  time  to  rejoice!  We've  won  a  victory, 
and  nothing  can  break  General  Grant's  death  grip  on 
Donelson!" 

Colonel  Winchester  was  speaking,  and  he  put  a  firm 
and  friendly  hand  on  the  boy's  shoulder.  Dick  came 
back  to  life,  and,  looking  into  his  colonel's  face,  he 
grinned.  Colonel  Winchester  could  have  been  recog- 
nized only  at  close  range.  His  face  was  black  with 
burned  gunpowder.  His  colonel's  hat  was  gone  and 
his  brown  hair  flew  in  every  direction.  He  still 
clenched  in  his  hand  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  of  which 
a  broken  blade  not  more  than  a  foot  long  was  left. 
His  clothing  had  been  torn  by  at  least  a  dozen  bullets, 
and  one  had  made  a  red  streak  across  the  back  of  his 
left  hand,  from  which  the  blood  fell  slowly,  drop  by 
drop. 

"You  don't  mind  my  telling  you,  colonel,  that 
you're  no  beauty,"  said  Dick,  who  felt  a  sort  of  hys- 
terical wish  to  laugh.  "You  look  as  if  the  whole; 
Southern  army  had  tried  to  shoot  you  up,  but  had 
merely  clipped  you  all  around  the  borders." 

"Laugh  if  it  does  you  good,"  replied  Colonel  Win- 
chester, a  little  gravely,  "but,  young  sir,  you  must 
give  me  the  same  privilege.  This  battle,  while  it  has 
not  wounded  you,  has  covered  you  with  its  grime. 
Come,  the  fighting  is  over  for  this  day  at  least,  and 

236 


GRANT'S    GREAT   VICTORY 

the  regiment  is  going  to  take  a  rest — what  there  is 
left  of  it." 

He  spoke  the  last  words  sadly.  He  knew  the  terri- 
ble cost  at  which  they  had  driven  the  Southern  army 
back  into  the  fort,  and  he  feared  that  the  full  price 
was  yet  far  from  being  paid.  But  he  preserved  a 
cheerful  manner  before  the  brave  lads  of  his  who 
had  fought  so  well. 

Dick  found  that  Warner  and  Pennington  both  had 
wounds,  although  they  were  too  slight  to  incapacitate 
them.  Sergeant  Whitley,  grave  and  unhurt,  rejoined 
them  also. 

The  winter  night  and  their  heavy  losses  could  not 
discourage  the  Northern  troops.  They  shared  the 
courage  and  tenacity  of  their  commander.  They  began 
to  believe  now  that  Donelson,  despite  its  strength  and 
its  formidable  garrison,  would  be  taken.  They  built 
the  fires  high,  and  ate  heartily.  They  talked  in  san- 
guine tones  of  what  they  would  do  in  the  morrow. 
Excited  comment  ran  among  them.  They  had  passed 
from  the  pit  of  despair  in  the  morning  to  the  apex  of 
hope  at  night.  Exhausted,  all  save  the  pickets  fell 
asleep  after  a  while,  dreaming  of  fresh  triumphs  on 
the  morrow. 

Had  Dick's  eyes  been  able  to  penetrate  Donelson 
he  would  have  beheld  a  very  different  scene.  Gloom, 
even  more,  despair,  reigned  there.  Their  great  effort 
had  failed.  Bravery  had  availed  nothing.  Their 
frightful  losses  had  been  suffered  in  vain.  The  gen- 
erals blamed  one  another.  Floyd  favored  the  sur- 
render of  the  army,  but  fancying  that  the  Union 

237 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

troops  hated  him  with  special  vindictiveness,  and 
that  he  would  not  be  sa^fe  as  a  prisoner,  decided  to 
escape. 

Pillow  declared  that  Grant  could  yet  be  beaten,  but 
after  a  while  changed  to  the  view  of  Floyd.  They 
yet  had  two  small  steamers  in  the  Cumberland  which 
could  carry  them  up  the  river.  They  left  the  com- 
mand to  Buckner,  the  third  in  rank,  and  told  him  he 
could  make  the  surrender.  The  black-bearded  For- 
rest said  grimly:  "I  ain't  goin*  to  surrender  my 
cavalry,  not  to  nobody,"  and  by  devious  paths  he  led 
them  away  through  the  darkness  and  to  liberty. 
Colonel  George  Kenton  rode  with  him. 

The  rumor  that  a  surrender  was  impending  spread 
to  the  soldiers.  Not  yet  firm  in  the  bonds  of  disci- 
pline confusion  ensued,  and  the  high  officers  were  too 
busy  escaping  by  the  river  to  restore  it.  All  through 
the  night  the  two  little  steamers  worked,  but  a  vast 
majority  of  the  troops  were  left  behind. 

But  Dick  could  know  nothing  of  this  at  the  time. 
He  was  sleeping  too  heavily.  He  had  merely  taken 
a  moment  to  snatch  a  bit  of  food,  and  then,  at  the 
suggestion  of  his  commanding  officer,  he  had  rolled 
himself  in  his  blankets.  Sleep  came  instantly,  and 
it  was  not  interrupted  until  Warner's  hand  fell  upon 
his  shoulder  at  dawn,  and  Warner's  voice  said  in  his 
ear: 

"Wake  up,  Dick,  and  look  at  the  white  flag  flutter- 
ing over  Donelson." 

Dick  sprang  to  his  feet,  sleep  gone  in  an  instant, 
and  gazed  toward  Donelson.  Warner  had  spoken  the 

238 


GRANTS    GREAT   VICTORY 

truth.    White  flags  waved  from  the  walls  and  earth- 
works. 

"So  they're  going  to  surrender!"  said  Dick.  "What 
a  triumph!'* 

"They  haven't  surrendered  yet,"  said  Colonel  Win- 
chester, who  stood  near.  "Those  white  flags  merely 
indicate  a  desire  to  talk  it  over  with  us,  but  such 
a  desire  is  nearly  always  a  sure  indication  of  yield- 
ing, and  our  lads  take  it  so.  Hark  to  their  cheer- 
ing." 

The  whole  Union  army  was  on  its  feet  now,  joy- 
ously welcoming  the  sight  of  the  white  flags.  They 
threw  fresh  fuel  on  their  fires  which  blazed  along  a 
circling  rim  of  miles,  and  ate  a  breakfast  sweetened 
with  the  savor  of  triumph. 

"Take  this  big  tin  cup  of  coffee,  Dick,"  said  War- 
ner. "It'll  warm  you  through  and  through,  and  we're 
entitled  to  a  long,  brown  drink  for  our  victory.  I  say 
victory  because  the  chances  are  ninety-nine  per  cent 
out  of  a  hundred  that  it  is  so.  Let  x  equal  our  army, 
let  y  equal  victory,  and  consequently  x  plus  y  equals 
our  position  at  the  present  time." 

"And  I  never  thought  that  we  could  do  it,"  said 
young  Pennington,  who  sat  with  them.  "I  suppose 
it  all  comes  of  having  a  general  who  won't  give  up. 
I  reckon  the  old  saying  is  true,  an'  that  Hold  Fast  is 
the  best  dog  of  them  all." 

Now  came  a  period  of  waiting.  Colonel  Winches- 
ter disappeared  in  the  direction  of  General  Grant's 
headquarters,  but  returned  after  a  while  and  called  his 
favorite  aide,  young  Richard  Mason. 

239 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"Dick,"  he  said,  "we  have  summoned  the  Southern- 
ers to  surrender,  and  I  want  you  to  go  with  me  to  a 
conference  of  their  generals.  You  may  be  needed  to 
carry  dispatches." 

Dick  went  gladly  with  the  group  of  Union  officers, 
who  approached  Fort  Donelson  under  the  white  flag, 
and  who  met  a  group  of  Confederate  officers  under  a 
like  white  flag.  He  noticed  in  the  very  center  of  the 
Southern  group  the  figure  of  General  Buckner,  a  tall, 
well-built  man  in  his  early  prime,  his  face  usually 
ruddy,  now  pale  with  fatigue  and  anxiety.  Dick,  with 
his  uncle,  Colonel  Kenton,  and  his  young  cousin, 
Harry  Kenton,  had  once  dined  at  his  house. 

Nearly  all  the  officers,  Northern  and  Southern, 
knew  one  another  well.  Many  of  them  had  been  to- 
gether at  West  Point.  Colonel  Winchester  and  Gen- 
eral Buckner  were  well  acquainted  and  they  saluted, 
each  smiling  a  little  grimly. 

"I  bring  General  Grant's  demand  for  the  surrender 
of  Fort  Donelson,  and  all  its  garrison,  arms,  ammuni- 
tion, and  other  supplies,"  said  Colonel  Winchester. 
"Can  I  see  your  chief,  General  Floyd?" 

The  lips  of  Buckner  pressed  close  together  in  a 
smile  touched  with  irony. 

"No,  you  cannot  see  General  Floyd,"  he  said,  "be- 
cause he  is  now  far  up  the  Cumberland." 

"Since  he  has  abdicated  the  command  I  wish  then 
to  communicate  with  General  Pillow." 

"I  regret  that  you  cannot  speak  to  him  either.  He 
is  as  far  up  the  Cumberland  as  General  Floyd.  Both 
departed  in  the  night,  and  I  am  left  in  command  of 

240 


GRANT'S    GREAT   VICTORY 

the  Southern  army  at  Fort  Donelson.  You  can  state 
your  demands  to  me,  Colonel  Winchester." 

Dick  saw  that  the  brave  Kentuckian  was  struggling 
to  hide  his  chagrin,  and  he  had  much  sympathy  for 
him.  It  was  in  truth  a  hard  task  that  Floyd  and 
Pillow  had  left  for  Buckner.  They  had  allowed  them- 
selves to  be  trapped  and  they  had  thrown  upon  him 
the  burden  of  surrendering.  But  Buckner  proceeded 
with  the  negotiations.  Presently  he  noticed  Dick. 

"Good  morning,  Richard,"  he  said.  "It  seems  that 
in  this  case,  at  least,  you  have  chosen  the  side  of  the 
victors. " 

"Fortune  has  happened  to  be  on  our  side,  general," 
said  Dick  respectfully.  "Could  you  tell  me,  sir,  if 
my  uncle,  Colonel  Kenton,  is  unhurt?" 

"He  was,  when  he  was  last  with  us,"  replied  Gen- 
eral Buckner,  kindly.  "Colonel  Kenton  went  out  last 
night  with  Forrest's  cavalry.  He  will  not  be  a 
prisoner." 

"'I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  the  boy. 

And  he  was  truly  glad.  He  knew  that  it  would 
hurt  Colonel  Kenton's  pride  terribly  to  become  a 
prisoner,  and  although  they  were  now  on  opposite 
sides,  he  loved  and  respected  his  uncle. 

The  negotiations  were  completed  and  before  night 
the  garrison  of  Donelson,  all  except  three  thousand 
who  had  escaped  in  the  night  with  Floyd  and  Pillow 
;md  Forrest,  laid  down  their  arms,  T?-^-J(answer  to 
Bull  Run  was  complete.  Fifteen  thousa.i^f.nen,  sixty- 
five  cannon,  and  seventeen  thousand  rifles  and  muskets 
were  surrendered  to  General  Grant.  The  bulldog  in 

241 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

the  silent  westerner  had  triumphed.  With  only  a  last 
chance  left  to  him  he  had  turned  defeat  into  complete 
victory,  and  had  dealt  a  stunning  blow  to  the  South- 
ern Confederacy,  which  was  never  able  like  the  North 
to  fill  up  its  depleted  ranks  with  fresh  men. 

Time  alone  could  reveal  to  many  the  deadly  nature 
of  this  blow,  but  Dick,  who  had  foresight  and  imagin- 
ation, understood  it  now  at  least  in  part  As  he  saw 
the  hungry  Southern  boys  sharing  the  food  of  their 
late  enemies  his  mind  traveled  over  the  long  Southern 
line.  Thomas  had  beaten  it  in  Eastern  Kentucky, 
Grant  had  dealt  it  a  far  more  crushing  blow  here  in 
Western  Kentucky,  but  Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  the 
most  formidable  foe  of  all,  yet  remained  in  the  center. 
He  was  a  veteran  general  with  a  great  reputation. 
Nay,  more,  it  was  said  by  the  officers  who  knew  him 
that  he  was  a  man  of  genius.  Dick  surmised  that 
Johnston,  after  the  stunning  blow  of  Donelson,  would 
be  compelled  to  fall  back  from  Tennessee,  but  he  did 
not  doubt  that  he  would  return  again. 

Dick  soon  saw  that  all  his  surmises  were  correct 
The  news  of  Donelson  produced  for  a  little  while  a 
sort  of  paralysis  at  Richmond,  and  when  it  reached 
Nashville,  where  the  army  of  Johnston  was  gathering, 
it  was  at  first  unbelievable.  It  produced  so  much  ex- 
citement and  confusion  that  a  small  brigade  sent  to 
the  relief  of  Donelson  was  not  called  back,  and 
marched  bl#cf  ly  into  the  little  town  of  Dover,  where 
it  found  itl1'  &  surrounded  by  the  whole  triumphant 
Union  army,  and  was  compelled  to  surrender  without 
a  fight 

242 


GRANT'S    GREAT   VICTORY 

Panic  swept  through  Nashville.  Everybody  knew 
that  Johnston  would  be  compelled  to  fall  back  from 
the  Cumberland  River,  upon  the  banks  of  which  the 
capital  of  Tennessee  stood.  Foote  and  his  gunboats 
would  come  steaming  up  the  stream  into  the  very  heart 
of  the  city.  Rumor  magnified  the  number  and  size 
of  his  boats.  Again  the  Southern  leaders  felt  that  the 
rivers  were  always  a  hostile  coil  girdling  them  about, 
and  lamented  their  own  lack  of  a  naval  arm. 

Floyd  had  drawn  off  in  the  night  from  Donelson 
his  own  special  command  of  Virginians  and  when  he 
arrived  at  Nashville  with  full  news  of  the  defeat  at 
the  fortress,  and  the  agreement  to  surrender,  the  panic 
increased.  Many  had  striven  to  believe  that  the  re- 
ports were  untrue,  but  now  there  could  be  no  doubt 

And  the  panic  gained  a  second  impetus  when  the 
generals  set  fire  to  the  suspension  bridge  over  the.  river 
and  the  docks  along  its  banks.  The  inhabitants  saw 
the  signal  of  doom  in  the  sheets  of  flame  that  rolled 
up,  and  all  those  who  had  taken  a  leading  part  in  the 
Southern  cause  prepared  in  haste  to  leave  with  John- 
ston's army.  The  roads  were  choked  with  vehicles 
and  fleeing  people.  The  State  Legislature,  which  was 
then  in  session,  departed  bodily  with  all  the  records 
and  archives. 

But  Dick,  after  the  first  hours  of  triumph,  felt  re- 
laxed and  depressed.  After  all,  the  victory  was  over 
their  own  people,  and  five  thousand  of  the  farmer 
lads,  North  and  South,  had  been  killed  or  wounded. 
But  this  feeling  did  not  last  long,  as  on  the  very  eve- 
ning of  victory  he  was  summoned  to  action.  Action, 

243 


THE    GUNS   OF   SHILOH 

with  him,  always  made  the  blood  leap  and  hope  rise. 

It  was  his  own  regimental  chief,  Arthur  Winchester, 
who  called  him,  and  who  told  him  to  make  ready  for 
an  instant  departure  from  Donelson. 

"You  are  to  be  a  cavalryman  for  a  while,  Dick," 
said  Colonel  Winchester.  "So  much  has  happened 
recently  that  we  scarcely  know  how  we  stand.  Above 
all,  we  do  not  know  how  the  remaining  Southern 
forces  are  disposed,  and  I  have  been  chosen  to  lead  a 
troop  toward  Nashville  and  see.  You,  Warner,  Pen- 
nington,  that  very  capable  sergeant,  Whitley,  and 
others  whom  you  know  are  to  go  with  me.  My  force 
will  number  about  three  hundred  and  the  horses  are 
already  waiting  on  the  other  side." 

They  were  carried  over  the  river  on  one  of  the 
boats,  and  the  little  company,  mounting,  prepared  to 
ride  into  the  dark  woods.  But  before  they  disap- 
peared, Dick  looked  back  and  saw  many  lights  gleam- 
ing in  captured  Donelson.  Once  more  the  magnitude 
of  Grant's  victory  impressed  him.  Certainly  he  had 
struck  a  paralyzing  blow  at  the  Southern  army  in  the 
west 

But  the  ride  in  the  dark  over  a  wild  and  thinly- 
settled  country  soon  occupied  Dick's  whole  attention. 
He  was  on  one  side  of  Colonel  Winchester  and  War- 
ner was  on  the  other.  Then  the  others  came  four 
abreast  At  first  there  was  some  disposition  to  talk, 
but  it  was  checked  sharply  by  the  leader,  and  after  a 
while  the  disposition  itself  was  lacking. 

Colonel  Winchester  was  a  daring  horseman,  ancl 
Dick  soon  realized  that  it  would  be  no  light  task  to 

244 


GRANT'S    GREAT    VICTORY 

follow  where  he  led.  Evidently  he  knew  the  country, 
as  he  rode  with  certainty  over  the  worst  roads  that 
Dick  had  ever  seen.  They  were  deep  in  mud  which 
froze  at  night,  but  not  solidly  enough  to  keep  the  feet 
of  the  horses  from  crushing  through,  making  a  crackle 
as  they  went  down  and  a  loud,  sticky  sigh  as  they 
came  out.  All  were  spattered  with  mud,  which  froze 
upon  them,  but  they  were  so  much  inured  to  hardship 
now  that  they  paid  no  attention  to  it. 

But  this  rough  riding  soon  showed  so  much  effect 
upon  the  horses  that  Colonel  Winchester  led  aside 
into  the  woods  and  fields,  keeping  parallel  with  the 
road.  Now  and  then  they  stopped  to  pull  down  fences, 
but  they  still  made  good  speed.  Twice  they  saw  at 
some  distance  cabins  with  the  smoke  yet  rising  from 
the  chimneys,  but  the  colonel  did  not  stop  to  ask  any 
questions.  Those  he  thought  could  be  asked  better 
further  on. 

Twice  they  crossed  creeks.  One  the  horses  could 
wade,  but  the  other  was  so  deep  that  they  were  com- 
pelled to  swim.  On  the  further  bank  of  the  second 
they  stopped  a  while  to  rest  the  horses  and  to  count 
the  men  to  see  that  no  straggler  had  dropped  away  in 
the  darkness.  Then  they  sprang  into  the  saddle  again 
and  rode  on  as  before  through  a  country  that  seemed 
to  be  abandoned. 

There  was  a  certain  thrill  and  exhilaration  in  their 
daring  ride.  The  smoke  and  odors  of  the  battle  about 
Donelson  were  blown  away.  The  dead  and  the 
wounded,  the  grewsome  price  even  of  victory,  no 
longer  lay  before  their  eyes,  and  the  cold  air  rushing 

245 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

past  freshened  their  blood  and  gave  it  a  new  sparkle. 
Every  one  in  the  little  column  knew  that  danger  was 
plentiful  about  them,  but  there  was  pleasure  in  action 
in  the  open. 

Their  general  direction  was  Nashville,  and  now  they 
came  into  a  country,  richer,  better  cultivated,  and  peo- 
pled more  thickly.  Toward  night  they  saw  on  a  gentle 
hill  in  a  great  lawn  and  surrounded  by  fine  trees  a 
large  red  brick  house,  with  green  shutters  and  portico 
supported  by  white  pillars.  Smoke  rose  from  two 
chimneys.  Colonel  Winchester  halted  his  troop  and 
examined  the  house  from  a  distance  for  a  little  while. 

"This  is  the  home  of  wealthy  people,"  he  said  at  last 
to  Dick,  "and  we  may  obtain  some  information  here. 
At  least  we  should  try  it." 

Dick  had  his  doubts,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"You,  Mr.  Pennington,  Mr.  Warner  and  Sergeant 
Whitley,  dismount  with  me,"  continued  the  colonel, 
"and  we'll  try  the  house." 

He  bade  his  troop  remain  in  the  road  under  the 
command  of  the  officer  next  in  rank,  and  he,  with 
those  whom  he  had  chosen,  opened  the  lawn  gate.  A 
brick  walk  led  to  the  portico  and  they  strolled  along 
it,  their  spurs  jingling.  Although  the  smoke  still  rose 
from  the  chimneys  no  door  opened  to  them  as  they 
stepped  into  the  portico.  All  the  green  shutters  were 
closed  tightly. 

"I  think  they  saw  us  in  the  road,"  said  Dick,  "and 
this  is  a  house  of  staunch  Southern  sympathizers. 
That  is  why  they  don't  open  to  us." 

"Beat  on  the  door  with  the  hilt  of  your  sword,  ser- 
246 


GRANT'S    GREAT   VICTORY 

geant,"  said  the  colonel  to  Whitley.  "They're  bound 
to  answer  in  time." 

The  sergeant  beat  steadily  and  insistently.  Yet  he 
was  forced  to  continue  it  five  or  six  minutes  before  it 
was  thrown  open.  Then  a  tall  old  woman  with  a 
dignified,  stern  face  and  white  hair,  drawn  back  from 
high  brows,  stood  before  them.  But  Dick's  quick  eyes 
saw  in  the  dusk  of  the  room  behind  her  a  girl  of  seven- 
teen or  eighteen. 

"What  do  you  want?'*  asked  the  woman  in  a  tone  of 
ice.  "I  see  that  you  are  Yankee  soldiers,  and  if  you 
intend  to  rob  the  house  there  is  no  one  here  to  oppose 
you.  Its  sole  occupants  are  myself,  my  granddaugh- 
ter, and  two  colored  women,  our  servants.  But  I  tell 
you,  before  you  begin,  that  all  our  silver  has  been 
shipped  to  Nashville." 

Colonel  Winchester  flushed  a  deep  crimson,  and  bit 
his  lips  savagely. 

"Madame,"  he  said,  "we  are  not  robbers  and  plun- 
derers. These  are  regular  soldiers  belonging  to  Gen- 
eral Grant's  army." 

"Does  it  make  any  difference?  Your  armies  come 
to  ravage  and  destroy  the  South." 

Colonel  Winchester  flushed  again  but,  remembering 
his  self-control,  he  said  politely: 

"Madame,  I  hope  that  our  actions  will  prove  to  you 
that  we  have  been  maligned.  We  have  not  come  here 
to  rob  you  or  disturb  you  in  any  manner.  We  merely 
wished  to  inquire  of  you  if  you  had  seen  any  other 
Southern  armed  forces  in  this  vicinity." 

"And  do  you  think,  sir,"  she  replied  in  the  same 

247 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHELOH 

uncompromising  tones,  "if  I  had  seen  them  that  I 
would  tell  you  anything  about  it?" 

"No,  Madame,"  replied  the  Colonel  bowing,  "what- 
ever I  may  have  thought  before  I  entered  your  portico 
I  do  not  think  so  now." 

"Then  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  bid  you  good  eve- 
ning, sir,"  she  said,  and  shut  the  door  in  his  face. 

Colonel  Winchester  laughed  rather  sorely. 

"She  had  rather  the  better  of  me,"  he  said,  "but  we 
can't  make  war  on  women.  Come  on,  lads,  we'll  ride 
ahead,  and  camp  under  the  trees.  It's  easy  to  obtain 
plenty  of  fuel  for  fires." 

"The  darkness  is  coming  fast,"  said  Dick,  "and  it  is 
going  to  be  very  cold,  as  usual." 

In  a  half  hour  the  day  was  fully  gone,  and,  as  he  had 
foretold,  the  night  was  sharp  with  chill,  setting  every 
man  to  shivering.  They  turned  aside  into  an  oak 
grove  and  pitched  their  camp.  It  was  never  hard  to 
obtain  fuel,  as  the  whole  area  of  the  great  civil  war 
was  largely  in  forest,  and  the  soldiers  dragged  up 
fallen  brushwood  in  abundance.  Then  the  fires  sprang 
up  and  created  a  wide  circle  of  light  and  cheerfulness. 

Dick  joined  zealously  in  the  task  of  finding  firewood 
and  his  search  took  him  somewhat  further  than  the 
others.  He  passed  all  the  way  through  the  belt  of  for- 
est, and  noticed  fields  beyond.  He  was  about  to  turn 
back  when  he  heard  a  faint,  but  regular  sound.  Ex- 
perience told  him  that  it  was  the  beat  of  a  horse's 
hoofs  and  he  knew  that  some  distance  away  a  road 
must  lead  between  the  fields. 

He  walked  a  hundred  yards  further,  and  climbing 
248 


GRANT'S    GREAT    VICTORY 

upon  a  fence  waited.  From  his  perch  he  could  see 
the  road  about  two  hundred  yards  beyond  him,  and 
the  hoof  beats  were  rapidly  growing  louder.  Some  one 
was  riding  hard  and  fast. 

In  a  minute  the  horseman  or  rather  horsewoman, 
came  into  view.  There  was  enough  light  for  Dick  to 
see  the  slender  figure  of  a  young  girl  mounted  on  a 
great  bay  horse.  She  was  wrapped  in  a  heavy  cloak, 
but  her  head  was  bare,  and  her  long  dark  hair  streamed 
almost  straight  out  behind  her,  so  great  was  the  speed 
at  which  she  rode. 

She  struck  the  horse  occasionally  with  a  small  riding 
whip,  but  he  was  already  going  like  a  racer.  Dick  re- 
membered the  slim  figure  of  a  girl,  and  it  occurred  to 
him  suddenly  that  this  was  she  whom  he  had  seen  in 
the  dusk  of  the  room  behind  her  grandmother.  He 
wondered  why  she  was  riding  so  fast,  alone  and  in 
the  winter  night,  and  then  he  admitted  with  a  thrill  of 
admiratiofi  that  he  had  never  seen  any  one  ride  better. 
The  hoof  beats  rose,  died  away  and  then  horse  and 
girl  were  gone  in  the  darkness.  Dick  climbed  down 
from  the  fence  and  shook  himself.  Was  it  real  or 
merely  fancy,  the  product  of  a  brain  excited  by  so 
much  siege  and  battle? 

He  picked  up  a  big  dead  bough  in  the  wood,  dragged 
it  back  to  the  camp  and  threw  it  on  one  of  the  fires. 

"What  are  you  looking  so  grave  about,  Dick?" 
asked  Warner. 

"When  I  went  across  that  stretch  of  woods  I  saw; 
something  that  I  didn't  expect  to  see." 

"What  was  it?" 

249 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"A  girl  on  a  big  horse.  They  came  and  they  went  so 
fast  that  I  just  got  a  glimpse  of  them." 

"A  girl  alone,  galloping  on  a  horse  on  a  wintry 
night  like  this  through  a  region  infested  by  hostile 
armies!  Why  Dick,  you're  seeing  shadows!  Better 
sit  down  and  have  a  cup  of  this  good  hot  coffee." 

But  Dick  shook  his  head.  He  knew  now  that  he  had 
seen  reality,  and  he  reported  it  to  Colonel  Winchester. 

"Are  you  sure  it  was  the  girl  you  saw  at  the  big 
house?"  asked  Colonel  Winchester.  "It  might  have 
been  some  farmer's  wife  galloping  home  from  an  er- 
rand late  in  the  evening." 

"It  was  the  girl.  I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  Dick  confi- 
dently. 

Just  at  that  moment  Sergeant  Whitley  came  up  and 
saluted. 

"What  is  it,  sergeant?"  asked  the  Colonel. 

"I  have  been  up  the  road  some  distance,  sir,  and  I 
came  to  another  road  that  crossed  it.  The  slcond  road 
has  been  cut  by  hoofs  of  eight  or  nine  hundred  horses, 
and  I  am  sure,  sir,  that  the  tracks  are  not  a  day  old." 

Colonel  Winchester  looked  grave.  He  knew  that 
he  was  deep  in  the  country  of  the  enemy  and  he  began 
to  put  together  what  Dick  had  seen  and  what  the  ser- 
geant had  seen.  But  the  thought  of  withdrawing  did 
not  occur  to  his  brave  soul.  He  had  been  sent  on  an 
errand  by  General  Grant  and  he  meant  to  do  it.  But 
he  changed  his  plans  for  the  night.  He  had  intended 
to  keep  only  one  man  in  ten  on  watch.  Instead,  he 
kept  half,  and  Sergeant  Whitley,  veteran  of  Indian 
wars,  murmured  words  of  approval  under  his  breath. 

250 


GRANT'S    GREAT   VICTORY 

Whitley  and  Pennington  were  in  the  early  watch., 
Dick  and  Warner  were  to  come  on  later.  The  colonel 
spoke  as  if  he  would  keep  watch  all  night  All  the 
horses  were  tethered  carefully  inside  the  ring  ol 
pickets. 

"It  doesn't  need  any  mathematical  calculation,"  said 
Warner,  "to  tell  that  the  colonel  expects  trouble  of 
some  kind  tonight.  What  its  nature  is,  I  don't  know, 
but  I  mean  to  go  to  sleep,  nevertheless.  I  have  al- 
ready seen  so  much  of  hardship  and  war  that  the  mere 
thought  of  danger  does  not  trouble  me.  I  took  a  fort 
on  the  Tennessee,  I  took  a  much  larger  one  on  the 
Cumberland,  first  defeating  the  enemy's  army  in  a  big 
battle,  and  now  I  am  preparing  to  march  on  Nashville. 
Hence,  I  will  not  have  my  slumbers  disturbed  by  a 
mere  belief  that  danger  may  come." 

"It's  a  good  resolution,  George,"  said  Dick,  "but  un- 
like you,  I  am  subject  to  impulses,  emotions,  thrills  and 
anxieties." 

"Better  cure  yourself,"  said  the  Vermonter,  as  he 
rolled  himself  in  the  blankets  and  put  his  head  on  his 
arm.  In  two  minutes  he  was  asleep,  but  Dick,  despite 
his  weariness,  had  disturbed  nerves  which  refused  to 
let  him  sleep  for  a  long  time.  He  closed  his  eyes  re- 
peatedly, and  then  opened  them  again,  merely  to  see 
the  tethered  horses,  and  beyond  them  the  circle  of  sen- 
tinels, a  clear  moonlight  falling  on  their  rifle  barrels. 
But  it  was  very  warm  and  cosy  in  the  blankets,  and 
he  would  soon  fall  asleep  again. 

He  was  awakened  about  an  hour  after  midnight  to 
take  his  turn  at  the  watch,  and  he  noticed  that  Colonel 

251 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Winchester  was  still  standing  beside  one  of  tHe  fires, 
but  looking  very  anxious.  Dick  felt  himself  on  good 
enough  terms,  despite  his  youth,  to  urge  him  to  take 
rest 

"I  should  like  to  do  so,"  replied  Colonel  Winchester, 
"but  Dick  I  tell  you,  although  you  must  keep  it  to 
yourself,  that  I  think  we  are  in  some  danger.  Your 
glimpse  of  the  flying  horsewoman,  and  the  undoubted 
fact  that  hundreds  of  horsemen  have  crossed  the  road 
ahead  of  us,  have  made  me  put  two  and  two  together. 
Ah,  what  is  it,  sergeant?" 

"I  think  I  hear  noises  to  the  east  of  us,  sir,"  replied 
the  veteran. 

"What  kind  of  noises,  sergeant?" 

"I  should  say,  sir,  that  they're  made  by  the  hoofs 
of  horses.  There,  I  hear  them  again,  sir.  I'm  quite 
sure  of  it,  and  they're  growing  louder!" 

"And  so  do  I!"  exclaimed  Colonel  Winchester,  now 
all  life  and  activity.  "The  sounds  are  made  by  a  large 
body  of  men  advancing  upon  us!  Seize  that  bugle, 
Dick,  and  blow  the  alarm  with  all  your  might!" 

Dick  snatched  up  the  bugle  and  blew  upon  it  a  long 
shrill  blast  that  pierced  far  into  the  forest.  He  blew 
and  blew  again,  and  every  man  in  the  little  force  sprang 
to  his  feet  in  alarm.  Nor  were  they  a  moment  too 
soon.  From  the  woods  to  the  east  came  the  answering 
notes  of  a  bugle  and  then  a  great  voice  cried : 

"Forward  men  an'  wipe  'em  off  the  face  of  the 
earth!" 

It  seemed  to  Dick  that  he  had  heard  that  voice 
before,  but  he  had  no  time  to  think  about  it,  as  the 

252 


GRANT'S    GREAT   VICTORY 

next  instant  came  the  rush  of  the  wild  horsemen,  a 
thousand  strong,  leaning  low  over  their  saddles,  their 
faces  dark  with  the  passion  of  anger  and  revenge, 
pistols,  rifles,  and  carbines  flashing,  as  they  pulled  the 
trigger,  giving  way  when  empty  to  sabres,  which 
gleamed  in  the  moonlight  as  they  were  swung  by  pow- 
erful hands. 

Colonel  Winchester's  whole  force  would  have  been 
ridden  down  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  minute's  warning.  His  men,  leaping  to 
their  feet,  snatched  up  their  own  rifles  and  fired  a 
volley  at  short  range.  It  did  more  execution  among 
the  horses  than  among  the  horsemen,  and  the  South- 
ern rough  riders  were  compelled  to  waver  for  a  mo- 
ment. Many  of  their  horses  went  down,  others  uttered 
the  terrible  shrieking  neigh  of  the  wounded,  and, 
despite  the  efforts  of  those  who  rode  them,  strove  to 
turn  and  flee  from  those  flaming  muzzles.  It  was  only 
a  moment,  but  it  gave  the  Union  troop,  save  those  who 
were  already  slain,  time  to  spring  upon  their  horses 
and  draw  back,  at  the  colonel's  shouted  command,  to 
the  cover  of  the  wood.  But  they  were  driven  hard. 
The  Confederate  cavalry  came  on  again,  impetuous 
and  fierce  as  ever,  and  urged  continually  by  the  great 
partisan  leader,  Forrest,  now  in  the  very  dawn  of  his 
fame. 

"It  was  no  phantom  you  saw,  that  girl  on  the  horse !" 
shouted  Warner  in  Dick's  ear,  and  Dick  nodded  in  re- 
turn. They  had  no  time  for  other  words,  as  Forrest's 
horsemen,  far  outnumbering  them,  now  pressed  them 
harder  than  ever.  A  continuous  fire  came  from  their 

253 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

ranks   and   at   close   range   they   rode   in  with   the 
sabre. 

Dick  experienced  the  full  terror  and  surprise  of  a 
night  battle.  The  opposing  forces  were  so  close  to- 
gether that  it  was  often  difficult  to  tell  friend  from  en- 
emy. But  Forrest's  men  had  every  advantage  of  sur- 
prise, superior  numbers  and  perfect  knowledge  of  the 
country.  Dick  groaned  aloud  as  he  saw  that  the  best 
they  could  do  was  to  save  as  many  as  possible.  Why 
had  he  not  taken  a  shot  at  the  horse  of  that  flying  girl? 

"We  must  keep  together,  Dick!"  shouted  Warner. 
"Here  are  Pennington  and  Sergeant  Whitley,  and 
there's  Colonel  Winchester.  I  fancy  that  if  we  can 
get  off  with  a  part  of  our  men  we'll  be  doing  well." 

Pennington's  horse,  shot  through  the  head,  dropped 
like  a  stone  to  the  ground,  but  the  deft  youth,  used  to 
riding  the  wild  mustangs  of  the  prairie,  leaped  clear, 
seized  another  which  was  galloping  about  riderless,  and 
at  one  bound  sprang  into  the  saddle. 

"Good  boy!"  shouted  Dick  with  admiration,  but  the 
next  moment  the  horsemen  of  Forrest  were  rushing 
upon  them  anew.  More  men  were  killed,  many  were 
taken,  and  Colonel  Winchester,  seeing  the  futility  of 
further  resistance,  gathered  together  those  who  were 
left  and  took  flight  through  the  forest. 

Tears  of  mortification  came  to  Dick's  eyes,  but 
Sergeant  Whitley,  who  rode  on  his  right  hand,  said: 

"It's  the  only  thing  to  do.  Remember  that  however 
bad  your  position  may  be  it  can  always  be  worse.  It's 
better  for  some  of  us  to  escape  than  for  all  of  us  to 
be  down  or  be  taken." 

254 


GRANT'S    GREAT   VICTORY 

Dick  knew  that  his  logic  was  good,  but  the  mortifica- 
tion nevertheless  remained  a  long  time.  There  was 
some  consolation,  however,  in  the  fact  that  his  own 
particular  friends  had  neither  fallen  nor  been  taken. 

They  still  heard  the  shouts  of  pursuing  horsemen, 
and  shots  rattled  about  them,  but  now  the  covering 
darkness  was  their  friend.  They  drew  slowly  away 
from  all  pursuit  The  shouts  and  the  sounds  of 
trampling  hoofs  died  behind  them,  and  after  two  hours 
of  hard  riding  Colonel  Winchester  drew  rein  and  or- 
dered a  halt 

It  was  a  disordered  and  downcast  company  of  about 
fifty  who  were  left.  A  few  of  these  were  wounded, 
but  not  badly  enough  to  be  disabled.  Colonel  Win- 
chester's own  head  had  been  grazed,  but  he  had  bound 
a  handkerchief  about  it,  and  sat  very  quiet  in  his 
saddle. 

"My  lads,"  he  said,  and  his  tone  was  sharp  with  the 
note  of  defiance.  "We  have  been  surprised  by  a  force 
greatly  superior  to  our  own,  and  scarcely  a  sixth  of 
us  are  left.  But  it  was  my  fault  I  take  the  blame. 
For  the  present,  at  least,  we  are  safe  from  the  enemy, 
and  I  intend  to  continue  with  our  errand.  We  were 
to  scout  the  country  all  the  way  to  Nashville.  It  is 
also  possible  that  we  will  meet  the  division  of  General 
Buell  advancing  to  that  city.  Now,  lads,  I  hope  that 
you  all  will  be  willing  to  go  on  with  me.  Are  you?" 

"We  are!"  roared  fifty  together,  and  a  smile  passed 
over  the  wan  face  of  the  colonel.  But  he  said  no 
more  then.  Instead  he  turned  his  head  toward  the 
-capital  city  of  the  state,  and  rode  until  dawn,  his  men 

255 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

following  close  behind  him.  The  boys  were  weary. 
In  truth,  all  of  them  were,  but  no  one  spoke  of  halting 
or  complained  in  any  manner. 

At  sunrise  they  stopped  in  dense  forest  at  the  banks 
of  a  creek,  and  watered  their  horses.  They  cooked 
jvhat  food  they  had  left,  and  after  eating  rested  for 
several  hours  on  the  ground,  most  of  them  going  to 
sleep,  while  a  few  men  kept  a  vigilant  watch. 

When  Dick  awoke  it  was  nearly  noon,  and  he  still 
felt  sore  from  his  exertions.  An  hour  later  they  all 
mounted  and  rode  again  toward  Nashville.  Near 
night  they  boldly  entered  a  small  village  and  bought 
food.  The  inhabitants  were  all  strongly  Southern,  but 
villagers  love  to  talk,  and  they  learned  there  in  a  man- 
ner, admitting  of  no  doubt,  that  the  Confederate  army 
was  retreating  southward  from  the  line  of  the  Cumber- 
land, that  the  state  capital  had  been  abandoned,  and 
that  to  the  eastward  of  them  the  Union  army,  under 
Buell,  was  advancing  swiftly  on  Nashville. 

"At  least  we  accomplished  our  mission,"  said 
Colonel  Winchester  with  some  return  of  cheerfulness. 
"We  have  discovered  the  retreat  of  General  Johnston's 
whole  army,  and  the  abandonment  of  Nashville,  in- 
valuable information  to  General  Grant.  But  we'll 
press  on  toward  Nashville  nevertheless." 

They  camped  the  next  night  in  a  forest  and  kept  a 
most  vigilant  watch.  If  those  terrible  raiders  led  by 
Forrest  should  strike  them  again  they  could  make  but 
little  defense. 

They  came  the  next  morning  upon  a  good  road  and 
followed  it  without  interruption  until  nearly  noon, 

256 


GRANT'S    GREAT   VICTORY 

when  they  saw  the  glint  of  arms  across  a  wide  field. 
Colonel  Winchester  drew  his  little  troop  back  into  the 
edge  of  the  woods,  and  put  his  field  glasses  to  his 
eyes. 

"There  are  many  men,  riding  along  a  road  parallel 
to  ours,"  he  said.  "They  look  like  an  entire  regiment, 
and  by  all  that's  lucky,  they're  in  the  uniforms  of  our 
own  troops.  Yes,  they're  our  own  men.  There  can 
be  no  mistake.  It  is  probably  the  advance  guard  of 
Buell's  army." 

They  still  had  a  trumpet,  and  at  the  colonel's  order 
it  was  blown  long  and  loud.  An  answering  call  came 
from  the  men  on  the  parallel  road,  and  they  halted. 
Then  Colonel  Winchester's  little  troop  galloped  for^ 
ward  and  they  were  soon  shaking  hands  with  the 
men  of  a  mounted  regiment  from  Ohio.  They  had 
been  sent  ahead  by  Buell  to  watch  Johnston's  army, 
but  hearing  of  the  abandonment  of  Nashville, 
they  were  now  riding  straight  for  the  city. 
Colonel  Winchester  and  his  troop  joined  them  gladly 
and  the  colonel  rode  by  the  side  of  the  Ohio 
colonel,  Mitchel. 

Dick  and  his  young  comrades  felt  great  relief.  He 
realized  the  terrible  activity  of  Forrest,  but  that  cav- 
alry leader,  even  if  he  had  not  now  gone  south,  would 
hesitate  about  attacking  the  powerful  regiment  with 
which  Dick  now  rode.  Warner  and  Pennington 
shared  his  feelings. 

"The  chances  are  ninety  per  cent  in  our  favor,"  said 
the  Vermonter,  "that  we'll  ride  into  Nashville  without 
a  fight.  I've  never  been  in  Tennessee  before,  and  I'm 

257 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

a  long  way  from  home,  but  I'm  curious  to  see  this  city. 
I'd  like  to  sleep  in  a  house  once  more." 

They  rode  into  Nashville  the  next  morning  amid 
frowning  looks,  but  the  half  deserted  city  offered  no 
resistance. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

IN  THE  FOREST 

DICK  spent  a  week  or  more  in  Nashville  and  he 
saw  the  arrival  of  one  of  General  Grant's 
divisions  on  the  fleet  under  Commodore 
Foote.  Once  more  he  appreciated  the  immense  value 
of  the  rivers  and  the  fleet  to  the  North. 

He  and  the  two  lads  who  were  now  knitted  to  him 
by  sympathy,  and  hardships  and  dangers  shared,  en- 
joyed their  stay  in  Nashville.  It  was  pleasant  to  sleep 
once  more  in  houses  and  to  be  sheltered  from  rain 
and  frost  and  snow.  It  was  pleasant,  too,  for  these 
youths,  who  were  devoted  to  the  Union,  to  think  that 
their  armies  had  made  such  progress  in  the  west. 
The  silent  and  inflexible  Grant  had  struck  the  first 
great  blow  for  the  North.  The  immense  Confederate 
line  in  the  west  was  driven  far  southward,  and  the 
capital  of  one  of  the  most  vigorous  of  the  secessionist 
states  was  now  held  by  the  Union. 

But  a  little  later,  news  not  so  pleasant  came  to  them. 
The  energy  and  success  of  Grant  had  aroused  jealousy. 
Halleck,  his  superior,  the  general  of  books  and  maps 
at  St.  Louis,  said  that  he  had  transcended  the  limits 
of  his  command.  He  was  infringing  upon  territory 

259 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

of  other  Northern  generals.  Halleck  had  not  found 
him  to  be  the  yielding  subordinate  who  would  win 
successes  and  let  others  have  the  credit. 

Grant  was  practically  relieved  of  his  command,  and 
when  Dick  heard  it  he  felt  a  throb  of  rage.  Boy  as 
he  was,  he  knew  that  what  had  been  won  must  be 
held.  Johnston  had  stopped  at  Murfreesborough, 
thirty  or  forty  miles  away.  His  troops  had  recovered 
from  their  paqic,  caused  by  the  fall  of  Donelson. 
Fresh  regiments  and  brigades  were  joining  him.  His 
army  was  rising  to  forty  thousand  men,  and  officers 
like  Colonel  Winchester  began  to  feel  apprehensive. 

Now  came  a  period  of  waiting.  The  Northern  lead- 
ers, as  happened  so  often  in  this  war,  were  uncertain 
of  their  authority,  and  were  at  cross-purposes.  They 
seldom  had  the  power  of  initiative  that  was  permitted 
to  the  Southern  generals,  and  of  which  they  made  such 
good  use.  Dick  saw  that  the  impression  made  by 
Donelson  was  fading.  The  North  was  reaping  no 
harvest,  and  the  South  was  lifting  up  its  head  again. 

While  he  was  in  Nashville  he  received  a  letter  from 
his  mother  in  reply  to  one  of  his  that  he  had  written 
to  her  just  after  Donelson.  She  was  very  thankful 
that  her  son  had  gone  safely  through  the  battle,  and 
since  he  must  fight  in  war,  which  was  terrible  in  any 
aspect,  she  was  glad  that  he  had  borne  himself  bravely. 
She  was  glad  that  Colonel  Kenton  had  escaped  cap- 
ture.  Her  brother-in-law  was  always  good  to  her 
and  was  a  good  man.  She  had  also  received  a  letter 
from  his  son,  her  nephew,  written  from  Richmond. 
She  loved  Harry  Kenton,  too,  and  sympathized  with 

260 


IN    THE    FOREST 

him,  but  she  could  not  see  how  both  sides  could  pre- 
vail. 

Dick  read  the  letter  over  and  over  again  and  there 
was  a  warm  glow  about  his  heart.  What  a  brave 
woman  his  mother  was!  She  said  nothing  about  his 
coming  back  home,  or  leaving  the  war.  He  wrote  a 
long  reply,  and  he  told  her  only  of  the  lighter  and  more 
cheerful  events  that  they  had  encountered.  He  de- 
scribed Warner,  Pennington,  and  the  sergeant,  and 
said  that  he  had  the  best  comrades  in  the  world.  He 
told,  too,  of  his  gallant  and  high-minded  commander, 
Colonel  Arthur  Winchester. 

He  was  sure  that  the  letter  would  reach  her 
promptly,  as  it  passed  all  the  way  through  territory 
now  controlled  by  the  North.  The  next  day  after  send- 
ing it  he  heard  with  joy  that  Grant  was  restored  to 
his  command,  and  two  days  later  Colonel  Winchester 
and  his  men  were  ordered  to  join  him  at  Pittsburg 
Landing,  on  the  Tennessee  River.  They  heard  also 
that  Buell,  with  his  whole  division,  was  soon  to  march 
to  the  same  place,  and  they  saw  in  it  an  omen  of 
speedy  and  concentrated  action. 

"I  imagine,"  said  Warner,  "that  we'll  soon  go  down 
in  Mississippi  hunting  Johnston.  We  must  outnumber 
the  Johnny  Rebs  at  least  two  to  one.  I'm  not  a  gen- 
eral, though  any  one  can  see  that  I  ought  to  be,  and 
if  we  were  to  follow  Johnston's  army  and  crush  it 
the  war  would  soon  be  ended  in  the  west" 

"You've  got  a  mighty  big  'if',"  said  Dick.  "If  we 
march  into  Mississippi  we  get  pretty  far  from  our  base. 
We'll  have  to  send  a  long  distance  through  hostile 

261 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

country  for  fresh  supplies  and  fresh  troops,  while  the 
Southerners  will  be  nearer  to  their  own.  Besides,  it's 
not  so  certain  that  we  can  destroy  Johnston  when  we 
find  him." 

"Your  talk  sounds  logical,  and  that  being  the  case, 
I'll  leave  our  future  movements  to  General  Grant 
Anyway,  it's  a  good  thing  not  to  have  so  much  respon- 
sibility on  your  shoulders." 

They  came  in  a  few  days  to  the  great  camp  on  the 
Tennessee.  Spring  was  now  breaking  through  the 
crust  of  winter.  Touches  of  green  were  appearing 
on  the  forests  and  in  the  fields.  Now  and  then  the 
wonderful  pungent  odor  of  the  wilderness  came  to 
them  and  life  seemed  to  have  taken  on  new  zest.  They 
were  but  boys  in  years,  and  the  terrible  scenes  of  Don- 
•elson  could  not  linger  with  them  long. 

They  found  Colonel  Newcomb  and  the  little  detach- 
ment of  Pennsylvanians  with  Grant,  and  Colonel  Win- 
chester, resuming  command  of  his  regiment,  camped 
by  their  side,  delighted  to  be  with  old  friends  again. 
Colonel  Winchester  had  lost  a  portion  of  his  regiment, 
but  there  were  excuses.  It  had  happened  in  a  country 
well  known  to  the  enemy  and  but  little  known  to  him, 
and  he  had  been  attacked  in  overwhelming  force  by 
the  rough-riding  Forrest,  who  was  long  to  be  a  terror 
to  the  Union  divisions.  But  he  had  achieved  the  task 
on  which  he  had  been  sent,  and  he  was  thanked  by  his 
commander. 

Dick,  as  he  went  on  many  errands  or  walked  about 
in  the  course  of  his  leisure  hours  with  his  friends, 
•watched  with  interest  the  growth  of  a  great  army. 

262 


IN    THE    FOREST 

There  were  more  men  here  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Tennessee  than  he  had  seen  at  Bull  Run.  They  were 
gathered  full  forty  thousand  strong,  and  General  Buell's 
army  also,  he  learned,  had  been  put  under  command 
of  General  Grant  and  was  advancing  from  Nashville 
to  join  him. 

Dick  also  observed  with  extreme  interest  the 
ground  upon  which  they  were  encamped  and  the  coun- 
try surrounding  it.  There  was  the  deep  Tennessee, 
still  swollen  by  spring  rains,  upon  the  left  bank  of 
which  they  lay,  with  the  stream  protecting  one  flank. 
In  the  river  were  some  of  the  gunboats  which  had 
been  of  such  value  to  Grant.  All  about  them  was 
rough,  hilly  country,  almost  wholly  covered  with 
brushwood  and  tall  forest.  There  were  three  deep 
creeks,  given  significant  names  by  the  pioneers.  Lick 
Creek  flowed  to  the  south  of  them  into  the  Tennessee, 
and  Owl  Creek  to  the  north  sought  the  same  destina- 
tion. A  third,  Snake  Creek,  was  lined  with  deep 
and  impassable  swamps  to  its  very  junction  with  the 
river. 

Some  roads  of  the  usual  frontier  type  ran  through 
this  region,  and  at  a  point  within  the  Northern  lines 
stood  a  little  primitive  log  church  that  they  called 
Shiloh.  It  was  of  the  kind  that  the  pioneers  built 
everywhere  as  they  moved  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific.  Shiloh  belonged  to  a  little  body  of  Methodists. 
Dick  went  into  it  more  than  once.  There  was  no 
pastor  and  no  congregation  now,  but  the  little  church 
was  not  molested.  He  sat  more  than  once  on  an  un- 
compromising wooden  bench,  and  looked  out  through 

263 


a  window,  from  which  the  shutter  was  gone,  at  the 
forest  and  the  army. 

Sitting  here  in  this  primitive  house  of  worship, 
he  would  feel  a  certain  sadness.  It  seemed  strange 
that  a  great  army,  whose  purpose  was  to  destroy  other 
armies,  should  be  encamped  around  a  building  erected 
in  the  cause  of  the  Prince  of  Peace.  The  mighty  and 
terrible  nature  of  the  war  was  borne  in  upon  him  more 
fully  than  ever. 

But  optimism  was  supreme  among  the  soldiers. 
They  had  achieved  the  great  victory  of  Donelson  in 
the  face  of  odds  that  had  seemed  impossible.  They 
could  defeat  all  the  Southern  forces  that  lay  between 
them  and  the  Gulf.  The  generals  shared  their  confi- 
dence. They  did  not  fortify  their  camp.  They  had 
not  come  that  far  South  to  fight  defensive  battles.  It 
was  their  place  to  attack  and  that  of  the  men  in  gray 
to  defend.  They  had  advanced  in  triumph  almost  to 
the  Mississippi  line,  and  they  would  soon  be  pursuing 
their  disorganized  foe  into  that  Gulf  State, 

Several  new  generals  came  to  serve  under  Grant 
Among  them  was  one  named  Sherman,  to  whom  Dick 
bore  messages  several  times,  and  who  impressed  him 
with  his  dry  manner  and  curt  remarks  which  were  yet 
so  full  of  sense. 

•It  was  Sherman's  division,  in  fact,  that  was  en- 
camped around  the  little  church,  and  Dick  soon  learned 
his  opinions.  He  did  not  believe  that  they  would  so 
easily  conquer  the  South.  He  did  not  look  for  any 
triumphal  parade  to  the  Gulf.  In  the  beginning  of 
the  war  he  had  brought  great  enmity  and  criticism 

264 


IN    THE    FOREST 

upon  himself  by  saying  that  200,000  men  at  least 
would  be  needed  at  once  to  crush  the  Confederacy  in 
the  west  alone.  And  yet  it  was  to  take  more  than 
ten  times  that  number  four  bitter  years  to  achieve  the 
task  in  both  west  and  east. 

But  optimism  continued  to  reign  in  the  Union  army. 
Buell  would  arrive  soon  with  his  division  and  then 
seventy  thousand  strong  they  would  resume  their 
march  southward,  crushing  everything.  Meanwhile  it 
was  pleasant  while  they  waited.  They  had  an  abun- 
dance of  food.  They  were  well  sheltered  from  the 
rains.  The  cold  days  were  passing,  nature  was 
bursting  into  its  spring  bloom,  and  the  crisp  fresh 
winds  that  blew  from  the  west  and  south  were 
full  of  life  and  strength.  It  was  a  joy  merely  to 
breathe. 

One  rainy  day  the  three  boys,  who  had  met  by 
chance,  went  into  the  little  church  for  shelter  from  a 
sudden  spring  rain.  From  the  shutterless  window 
Dick  saw  Sergeant  Whitley  scurrying  in  search  of  a, 
refuge,  and  they  called  to  him.  He  came  gladly  and 
took  a  seat  in  one  of  the  rough  wooden  pews  of  the 
little  church  of  Shiloh.  The  three  boys  had  the  great- 
est respect  for  the  character  and  judgment  of  the  ser- 
geant, and  Dick  asked  him  when  he  thought  the  army 
would  march. 

"They  don't  tell  these  things  to  sergeants,"  said 
Whitley. 

"But  you  see  and  you  know  a  lot  about  war." 

"Well,  you've  noticed  that  the  army  ain't  gettin* 
ready  to  march.  When  General  Buell  gets  here  we'll 

265 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

have  nigh  onto  seventy  thousand  men,  and  seventy 
thousand  men  can't  lift  themselves  up  by  their  boot- 
straps an'  leave,  all  in  a  mornin'." 

"But  we  don't  have  to  hurry,"  said  Pennington. 
"There's  no  Southern  army  west  of  the  Alleghanies 
that  could  stand  before  our  seventy  thousand  men  for 
an  hour." 

"General  Buell  ain't  here  yet" 

"But  he's  coming." 

"But  he  ain't  here  yet,"  persisted  the  sergeant,  "an' 
he  can't  be  here  for  several  days,  'cause  the  roads  are 
mighty  deep  in  the  spring  mud.  Don't  say  any  man  is 
here  until  he  is  here.  An'  I  tell  you  that  General  John- 
ston, with  whom  we've  got  to  deal,  is  a  great  man. 
I  wasn't  with  him  when  he  made  that  great  march 
through  the  blizzards  an'  across  the  plains  to  Salt 
Lake  City  to  make  the  Mormons  behave,  but  I've 
served  with  them  that  was.  An'  I've  never  yet  found 
one  of  them  who  didn't  say  General  Johnston  was  a 
mighty  big  man.  Soldiers  know  when  the  right  kind 
of  a  man  is  holdin'  the  reins  an'  drivin'  'em.  Didn't 
we  all  feel  that  we  was  bein'  driv  right  when  General 
Grant  took  hold?" 

"We  all  felt  it,"  said  the  three  in  chorus. 

"Of  course  you  did,"  said  the  sergeant,  "an'  now 
I've  got  a  kind  of  uneasy  feelin'  over  General  John- 
ston. Why  don't  we  hear  somethin'  from  him  ?  Why 
don't  we  know  what  he's  doin'  ?  We  haven't  sent  out 
any  scoutin'  parties.  On  the  plains,  no  matter  how 
strong  we  was,  we  was  always  on  the  lookout  for  hos- 
tile Indians,  while  here  we  know  there  is  a  big  Con- 

266 


IN    THE    FOREST 

federate  army  somewhere  within  fifty  miles  of  us,  but: 
don't  take  the  trouble  to  look  it  up." 

"That's  so,"  said  Warner.  "Caution  represents  less 
than  five  per  cent  of  our  effectiveness.  But  I  suppose 
we  can  whip  the  Johnnies  anyway." 

"Of  course  we  can,"  said  Pennington,  who  was  al- 
ways of  a  most  buoyant  temperament. 

Sergeant  Whitley  went  to  the  shutterless  window, 
and  looked  out  at  the  forest  and  the  long  array  of 
tents. 

"The  rain  is  about  over,"  he  said.  "It  was  just  a 
passin'  shower.  But  it  looks  as  if  it  had  already  added 
a  fresh  shade  of  green  to  the  leaves  and  grass.  Cur'us 
how  quick  a  rain  can  do  it  in  spring,  when  every- 
thing is  just  waitin'  a  chance  to  grow,  and  bust  into 
bloom.  I've  rid  on  the  plains  when  everything  was 
brown  an'  looked  dead.  'Long  come  a  big  rain  an'  the 
next  day  everything  was  green  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach  an'  you'd  see  little  flowers  bloomin'  down  under 
the  shelter  of  the  grass." 

"I  didn't  know  you  had  a  poetical  streak  in  you,  ser- 
geant," said  Dick,  who  marked  his  abrupt  change  from 
the  discussion  of  the  war  to  a  far  different  topic. 

"I  think  some  of  it  is  in  every  man,"  replied  Ser- 
geant Whitley  gravely.  "I  remember  once  that  when 
we  had  finished  a  long  chase  after  some  Northern 
Cheyennes  through  mighty  rough  and  dry  country  we 
came  to  a  little  valley,  a  kind  of  a  pocket  in  the  hills, 
fed  by  a  fine  creek,  runnin'  out  of  the  mountains  on 
one  side,  into  the  mountains  on  the  other.  The  pocket 
was  mebbe  two  miles  long  an'  mebbe  a  mile  across, 

267 


THE    GUNS    OF   SHILOH 

an'  it  was  chock  full  of  green  trees  an'  green  grass,  an' 
wild  flowers.  We  enjoyed  its  comforts,  but  do  you 
think  that  was  all?  Every  man  among  us,  an'  there 
was  at  least  a  dozen  who  couldn't  read,  admired  its 
beauties,  an'  begun  to  talk  softer  an'  more  gentle  than 
they  did  when  they  was  out  on  the  dry  plains.  An* 
you  feel  them  things  more  in  war  than  you  do  at  any 
other  time." 

"I  suppose  you  do,"  said  Dick.  "The  spring  is  com- 
ing out  now  in  Kentucky  where  I  live,  and  I'd  like  to 
see  the  new  grass  rippling  before  the  wind,  and  the 
young  leaves  on  the  trees  rustling  softly  together." 

"Stop  sentimentalizing,"  said  Warner.  "If  you 
don't  it  won't  be  a  minute  before  Pennington  will 
begin  to  talk  about  his  Nebraska  plains,  and  how  he'd 
like  to  see  the  buffalo  herds  ten  million  strong,  rocking 
the  earth  as  they  go  galloping  by." 

Pennington  smiled. 

"I  won't  see  the  buffalo  herds,"  he  said,  "but  look  at 
the  wild  fowl  going  north." 

They  left  the  window  as  the  rain  had  ceased, 
and  went  outside.  All  this  region  was  still  primitive 
and  thinly  settled,  and  now  they  saw  flocks  of  wild 
ducks  and  wild  geese  winging  northward.  The  next 
day  the  heavens  themselves  were  darkened  by  an  im- 
mense flight  of  wild  pigeons.  The  country  cut  up  by 
so  many  rivers,  creeks  and  brooks  swarmed  with  wild 
fowl,  and  more  than  once  the  soldiers  roused  up  deer 
from  the  thickets. 

The  second  day  after  the  talk  of  the  four  in  the 
little  church  Dick,  who  was  now  regarded  as  a  most 

268 


IN    THE    FOREST 

efficient  and  trusty  young  staff  officer,  was  sent  with  a 
dispatch  to  General  Buell  requesting  him  to  press  for- 
ward with  as  much  speed  as  he  could  to  the  junction 
with  General  Grant.  Several  other  aides  were  sent 
by  different  routes,  in  order  to  make  sure  that  at  least 
one  would  arrive,  but  Dick,  through  his  former  ride 
with  Colonel  Winchester  to  Nashville,  had  the  most 
knowledge  of  the  country,  and  hence  was  likely  to 
reach  Buell  first. 

As  the  boy  rode  from  the  camp  and  crossed  the 
river  into  the  forest  he  looked  back,  and  he  could  not 
fail  to  notice  to  what  an  extent  it  was  yet  a  citizen 
army,  and  not  one  of  trained  soldiers.  The  veteran 
sergeant  had  already  called  his  attention  to  what  he 
deemed  grave  omissions.  In  the  three  weeks  that  they 
had  been  lying  there  they  had  thrown  up  no  earth- 
works. Not  a  spade  had  touched  the  earth.  Nor 
was  there  any  other  defense  of  any  kind.  The  high 
forest  circled  close  about  them,  dense  now  with  foliage 
and  underbrush,  hiding  even  at  a  distance  of  a  few 
hundred  yards  anything  that  might  lie  within.  The 
cavalry  in  these  three  weeks  had  made  one  scouting  ex- 
pedition, but  it  was  slight  and  superficial,  resulting  in 
nothing.  The  generals  of  divisions  posted  their  own 
pickets  separately,  leaving  numerous  wide  breaks  in  the 
line,  and  the  farmer  lads,  at  the  change  of  guard,  in- 
variably fired  their  rifles  in  the  air,  to  signify  the  joy 
of  living,  and  because  it  was  good  to  hear  the  sound. 

Now  that  he  was  riding  away  from  them,  these 
things  impressed  Dick  more  than  when  he  was  among 
them.  Sergeant  Whitley's  warning  and  pessimistic 

269 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

words  came  back  to  him  with  new  force,  but,  as  he 
rode  into  the  depths  of  the  forest,  he  shook  off  all  de- 
pression. Those  words,  "Seventy  thousand  strong!" 
continually  recurred  to  him.  Yes,  they  would  be  sev- 
enty thousand  strong  when  Buell  came  up,  and  the 
boys  were  right.  Certainly  there  was  no  Confederate 
force  in  the  west  that  could  resist  seventy  thousand 
troops,  splendidly  armed,  flushed  with  victory  and  led 
by  a  man  like  Grant. 

Seventy  thousand  strong!  Dick's  heart  beat  high  at 
the  unuttered  words.  Why  should  Grant  fortify?  It 
was  for  the  enemy,  not  for  him,  to  do  such  a  thing.  Nor 
was  it  possible  that  Johnston  even  behind  defenses 
could  resist  the  impact  of  the  seventy  thousand  who 
had  been  passing  from  one  victory  to  another,  and 
who  were  now  in  the  very  heart  of  the  enemy's 
country. 

His  heart  continued  to  beat  high  and  fast  as  he  rode 
through  the  green  forest.  Its  strong,  sweet  odors 
gave  a  fillip  to  his  blood,  and  he  pressed  his  horse  to 
new  speed.  He  rode  without  interruption  night  and 
day,  save  a  few  hours  now  and  then  for  sleep,  and 
reached  the  army  of  Buell  which  deep  in  mud  was  toil- 
ing slowly  forward. 

Buell  was  not  as  near  to  Shiloh  as  Dick  had  sup- 
posed, but  his  march  had  suffered  great  hindrances. 
Halleck,  in  an  office  far  away  in  St.  Louis,  had  under- 
taken to  manage  the  campaign.  His  orders  to  Buell 
and  his  command  to  Grant  had  been  delayed.  Buell, 
who  had  moved  to  the  town  of  Columbia,  therefore 
had  started  late  through  no  fault  of  his. 

270 


IN    THE    FOREST 

Duck  River,  which  Buell  was  compelled  to  cross, 
was  swollen  like  all  the  other  streams  of  the  region, 
by  the  great  rains  and  was  forty  feet  deep.  The  rail- 
way bridge  across  it  had  been  wrecked  by  the  retreat- 
ing Confederates  and  he  was  compelled  to  wait  there 
two  weeks  until  his  engineers  could  reconstruct  it. 

War  plays  singular  chances.  Halleck  in  St.  Louis, 
secure  in  his  plan  of  campaign,  had  sent  an  order  after 
Dick  left  Shiloh,  for  Buell  to  turn  to  the  north,  leav- 
ing Grant  to  himself,  and  occupy  a  town  that  he  named. 
Through  some  chance  the  order  never  reaahed  Buell. 
Had  it  done  so  the  whole  course  of  American  history 
might  have  been  .changed.  Grant  himself,  after  the 
departure  of  the  earlier  messengers,  changed  his  mind 
and  sent  messengers  to  Nelson,  who  led  Buell's  van- 
guard, telling  him  not  to  hurry.  This  army  was  to 
come  to  Pittsburg  Landing  or  Shiloh  partly  by  the 
Tennessee,  and  Grant  stated  that  the  vessels  for  him 
would  not  be  ready  until  some  days  later.  It  was  the 
early  stage  of  the  war  when  generals  behaved  with 
great  independence,  and  Nelson,  a  rough,  stubborn 
man,  after  reading  the  order  marched  on  faster  than 
ever.  It  seemed  afterward  that  the  very  stars  were 
for  Grant,  when  one  order  was  lost,  and  another  dis- 
obeyed. 

But  Dick  was  not  to  know  of  these  things  until 
later.  He  delivered  in  person  his  dispatch  to  General 
Buell,  who  remembered  him  and  gave  him  a  friendly 
nod,  but  who  was  as  chary  of  speech  as  ever.  He 
wrote  a  brief  reply  to  the  dispatch  and  gave  it  sealed 
to  Dick. 

271 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

"The  letter  I  hand  you,"  he  said,  "merely  notifies 
General  Grant  that  I  have  received  his  orders  and 
will  hurry  forward  as  much  as  possible.  If  on  your 
return  journey  you  should  deem  yourself  in  danger 
of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  destroy  it  at 
once." 

Dick  promised  to  do  so,  saluted,  and  retired.  He 
spent  only  two  hours  in  General  Buell's  camp,  secur- 
ing some  fresh  provisions  to  carry  in  his  saddle  bags 
and  allowing  his  horse  a  little  rest.  Then  he  mounted 
and  took  as  straight  a  course  as  he  could  for  Gen- 
eral Grant's  camp  at  Pittsburg  Landing. 

The  boy  felt  satisfied  with  himself.  He  had  done 
his  mission  quickly  and  exactly,  and  he  would  have 
a  pleasant  ride  back.  On  his  strong,  swift  horse, 
and  with  a  good  knowledge  of  the  road,  he  could  go 
several  times  faster  than  Buell's  army.  He  anticipated 
a  pleasant  ride.  The  forest  seemed  to  him  to  be  fairly 
drenched  in  spring.  Little  birds  flaming  in  color 
darted  among  the  boughs  and  others  more  modest  in 
garb  poured  forth  a  full  volume  of  song.  Dick,  sen- 
sitive to  sights  and  sounds,  hummed  a  tune  himself.  It 
was  the  thundering  song  of  the  sea  that  he  had  heard 
Samuel  Jarvis  sing  in  the  Kentucky  Mountains : 

They  bore  him  away  when  the  day  had  fled, 

And  the  storm  was  rolling  high, 

And  they  laid  him  down  in  his  lonely  bed 

By  the  light  of  an  angry  sky. 

The  lightning  flashed  and  the  wild  sea  lashed 

The  shore  with  its  foaming  wave, 

And  the  thunder  passed  on  the  rushing  blast, 

As  it  howled  o'er  the  rover's  grave. 

272 


IN    THE    FOREST 

He  pressed  on,  hour  after  hour,  through  the  deep 
woods,  meeting  no  one,  but  content.  At  noon  his 
horse  suddenly  showed  signs  of  great  weariness,  and 
Dick,  remembering  how  much  he  had  ridden  him  over 
muddy  roads,  gave  him  a  long  rest.  Besides,  there 
was  no  need  to  hurry.  The  Southern  army  was  at  Cor- 
inth, in  Mississippi,  three  or  four  days'  journey  away, 
and  there  had  been  no  scouts  or  skirmishers  in  the 
woods  between. 

After  a  stop  of  an  hour  he  remounted  and  rode  on 
again,  but  the  horse  was  still  feeling  his  great  strain, 
and  he  did  not  push  him  beyond  a  walk.  He  calcu- 
lated that  nevertheless  he  would  reach  headquarters 
not  long  after  nightfall,  and  he  went  along  gaily,  still 
singing  to  himself.  He  crossed  the  river  at  a  point 
above  the  army,  where  the  Union  troops  had  made  a 
ferry,  and  then  turned  toward  the  camp. 

About  sunset  he  reached  a  hill  from  which  he  could 
look  over  the  forest  and  see  under  the  horizon  faint 
lights  that  were  made  by  Grant's  campfires  at  Pitts- 
burg  Landing.  It  was  a  welcome  sight.  He  would 
soon  be  with  his  friends  again,  and  he  urged  his  horse 
forward  a  little  faster. 

"Halt!"  cried  a  sharp  voice  from  the  thicket. 

Dick  faced  about  in  amazement,  and  saw  four  horse- 
men in  gray  riding  from  the  bushes.  The  shock  was 
as  great  as  if  he  had  been  struck  by  a  bullet,  but  he 
leaned  forward  on  his  horse's  neck,  kicked  him  vio- 
lently with  his  heels  and  shouted  to  him.  The  horse 
plunged  forward  at  a  gallop.  The  boy,  remembering 
General  Buell's  instructions,  slipped  the  letter  from 

273 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

his  pocket,  and  in  the  shelter  of  the  horse's  body 
dropped  it  to  the  ground,  where  he  knew  it  would 
be  lost  among  the  bushes  and  in  the  twilight. 

"Halt!"  was  repeated  more  loudly  and  sharply  than 
ever.  Then  a  bullet  whizzed  by  Dick's  ear,  and  a  sec- 
ond pierced  the  heart  of  his  good  horse.  He  tried 
to  leap  clear  of  the  falling  animal,  and  succeeded,  but 
he  fell  so  hard  among  the  bushes  that  he  was  stunned 
for  a  few  moments.  When  he  revived  and  stood  up 
he  saw  the  four  horsemen  in  gray  looking  curiously 
at  him. 

'  'Twould  have  been  cheaper  for  you  to  have 
stopped  when  we  told  you  to  do  it,"  said  one  in  a 
;whimsical  tone. 

Dick  noticed  that  the  tone  was  not  unkind — it  was 
not  the  custom  to  treat  prisoners  ill  in  this  great  war. 
He  rubbed  his  left  shoulder  on  which  he  had  fallen 
and  which  still  pained  him  a  little. 

"I  didn't  stop,"  he  said,  "because  I  didn't  know  that 
you  would  be  able  to  hit  either  me  or  my  horse  in 
the  dusk." 

"I  s'pose  from  your  way  of  lookin'  at  it  you  was 
right  to  take  the  chance,  but  you've  learned  now  that 
we  Southern  men  are  tol'able  good  sharpshooters." 

"I  knew  it  long  ago,  but  what  are  you  doing  here, 
right  in  the  jaws  of  our  army?  They  might  close  on 
you  any  minute  with  a  snap.  You  ought  to  be  with 
your  own  army  at  Corinth." 

Dick  noticed  that  the  men  looked  at  one  another, 
and  there  was  silence  for  a  moment  or  two. 

"Young  fellow,"  resumed  the  spokesman,  "you  was 
274 


IN    THE    FOREST 

comin'  from  the  direction  of  Columbia,  an'  your  boss, 
which  I  am  sorry  we  had  to  kill,  looked  as  if  he  was 
cleaned  tuckered  out.  I  judge  that  you  was  bearin'  a 
message  from  Buell's  army  to  Grant's." 

"You  mustn't  hold  me  responsible  for  your  judg- 
ment, good  or  bad." 

"No,  I  reckon  not,  but  say,  young  fellow,  do  you 
happen  to  have  a  chaw  of  terbacker  in  your 
clothes?" 

"If  I  had  any  I'd  offer  it  to  you,  but  I  never 
chew." 

The  man  sighed. 

"Well,  mebbe  it's  a  bad  habit,"  he  said,  "but  it's 
powerful  grippin'.  I'd  give  a  heap  for  a  good  twist 
of  old  Kentucky.  Now  we're  goin'  to  search  you  an' 
it  ain't  wuth  while  to  resist,  'cause  we've  got  you 
where  we  want  you,  as  the  dog  said  to  the  'coon  when 
he  took  him  by  the  throat.  We're  lookin'  for  letters 
an'  dispatches,  'cause  we're  shore  you  come  from 
Buell,  but  if  we  should  run  across  any  terbacker  we'll 
have  to  he'p  ourselves  to  it.  We  ain't  no  robbers, 
'cause  in  times  like  these  it  ain't  no  robbery  to  take 
terbacker." 

Dick  noticed  that  while  they  talked  one  of  the  men 
never  ceased  to  cover  him  with  a  rifle.  They  were 
good-humored  and  kindly,  but  he  knew  they  would  not 
relax  an  inch  from  their  duty. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  "go  ahead.  I'll  give  you  a  good 
legal  title  to  everything  you  may  find." 

He  knew  that  the  letter  was  lying  in  the  bushes 
within  ten  feet  of  them  and  he  had  a  strong  tempta- 

275 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

tion  to  look  in  that  direction  and  see  if  it  were  as 
securely  hidden  as  he  had  thought,  but  he  resisted  the 
impulse. 

Two  of  the  men  searched  him  rapidly  and  dexter- 
ously, and  much  to  their  disappointment  found  no 
dispatch. 

"You  ain't  got  any  writin'  on  you,  that's  shore," 
said  the  spokesman.  "I'd  expected  to  find  a  paper,  an' 
I  had  a  lingerin'  hope,  too,  that  we  might  find  a  little 
terbacker  on  you  'spite  of  what  you  said." 

"You  don't  think  I'd  lie  about  the  tobacco,  would 
you?" 

"Sonny,  it  ain't  no  lyin'  in  a  big  war  to  say  you 
ain't  got  no  terbacker,  when  them  that's  achin'  for  it 
are  standin'  by,  ready  to  grab  it.  If  you  had  a  big 
diamond  hid  about  you,  an'  a  robber  was  to  ask  you 
if  you  had  it,  you'd  tell  him  no,  of  course." 

"I  think,"  said  Dick,  "that  you  must  be  from  Ken- 
tucky. You've  got  our  accent." 

"I  shorely  am,  an'  I'm  a  longer  way  from  it  than 
I  like.  I  noticed  from  the  first  that  you  talked  like 
me,  which  is  powerful  flatterin'  to  you.  Ain't  you 
one  of  my  brethren  that  the  evil  witches  have  made 
take  up  with  the  Yankees?" 

"I'm  from  the  same  state,"  replied  Dick,  who  saw 
no  reason  to  conceal  his  identity.  "My  name  is  Rich- 
ard Mason,  and  I'm  an  aide  on  the  staff  of  Colonel 
Arthur  Winchester,  who  commands  a  Kentucky  regi- 
ment in  General  Grant's  army." 

"I've  heard  of  Colonel  Winchester.  The  same  that 
got  a  part  of  his  regiment  cut  up  so  bad  by  Forrest." 

276 


IN    THE    FOREST 

"Yes,  we  did  get  cut  up.  I  was  there,"  confessed 
Dick  a  little  reluctantly. 

"Don't  feel  bad  about  it.  It's  likely  to  happen  to 
any  of  you  when  Forrest  is  around.  Now,  since 
you've  introduced  yourself  so  nice  I'll  introduce  my- 
self. I'm  Sergeant  Robertson,  in  the  Orphan  Brigade. 
It's  a  Kentucky  brigade,  an'  it  gets  its  nickname  'cause 
it's  made  up  of  boys  so  young  that  they  call  me 
gran'pa,  though  I'm  only  forty-four.  These  other 
three  are  Bridge,  Perkins,  and  Connor,  just  plain  pri- 
vates." 

The  three  "just  plain  privates"  grinned. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  me?"  asked 
Dick. 

"We're  goin'  to  give  you  a  pleasant  little  ride.  We 
killed  your  hoss,  for  which  I  'pologize  again,  but  I've 
got  a  good  one  of  my  own,  and  you'll  jump  up  behind 
me." 

A  sudden  spatter  of  rifle  fire  came  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Northern  pickets. 

"Them  sentinels  of  yours  have  funny  habits,"  said 
Robertson  grinning.  "Just  bound  to  hear  their  guns 
go  off.  They're  changin'  the  guard  now." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  asked  Dick. 

"Oh,  I  know  a  heap.  I'm  a  terrible  wise  man,  but 
bein'  so  wise  I  don't  tell  all  I  know  or  how  I  happen 
to  know  it.  Hop  up,  sonny." 

"Don't  you  think  I'll  be  a  lot  of  trouble  to  you," 
said  Dick,  "riding  behind  you  thirty  or  forty  miles 
to  your  camp  ?" 

The    four   men    exchanged    glances,    and   no    one 

277 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

answered.  The  boy  felt  a  sudden  chill,  and  his  hair 
prickled  at  the  roots.  He  did  not  know  what  had 
caused  it,  but  surely  it  was  a  sign  of  some  danger. 

The  night  deepened  steadily  as  they  were  talking. 
The  twilight  had  gone  long  since.  The  last  afterglow 
had  faded.  The  darkness  was  heavy  with  warmth. 
The  thick  foliage  of  spring  rustled  gently.  Dick's 
sensation  that  something  unusual  was  happening  did 
not  depart. 

The  four  men,  after  looking  at  one  another,  looked 
fixedly  at  Dick. 

"Sonny,"  said  Robertson,  "you  ain't  got  no  call  to 
worry  'bout  our  troubles.  As  I  said,  this  is  a  good, 
strong  hoss  of  mine,  an'  it  will  carry  us  just  as  far  as 
we  go  an'  no  further." 

It  was  an  enigmatical  reply,  and  Dick  saw  that  it 
was  useless  to  ask  them  questions.  Robertson 
mounted,  and  Dick,  without  another  word,  sprang  up 
behind  him.  Two  of  the  privates  rode  up  close,  one 
on  either  side,  and  the  other  kept  immediately  behind. 
He  happened  to  glance  back  and  he  saw  that  the  man 
held  a  drawn  pistol  on  his  thigh.  He  wondered  at 
such  extreme  precautions,  and  the  ominous  feeling 
increased. 

"Now,  lads,"  said  Robertson  to  his  men,  "don't 
make  no  more  noise  than  you  can  help.  There  ain't 
much  chance  that  any  Yankee  scoutin'  party  will  be 
out,  but  if  there  should  be  one  we  don't  want  to  run 
into  it.  An5  as  for  you,  Mr.  Mason,  you're  a  nice 
boy.  We  all  can  see  that,  but  just  as  shore  as  you 
let  go  with  a  yell  or  anything  like  it  at  any  time  or 

278 


IN    THE    FOREST 

under  any  circumstances,  you'll  be  dead  the  next 
second." 

A  sudden  fierce  note  rang  in  his  voice,  and  Dick, 
despite  all  his  courage,  shuddered.  He  felt  as  if  a 
nameless  terror  all  at  once  threatened  not  only  him, 
but  others.  His  lips  and  mouth  were  dry. 

Robertson  spoke  softly  to  his  horse,  and  then  rode 
slowly  forward  through  the  deep  forest.  The  others 
rode  with  him,  never  breaking  their  compact  forma- 
tion, and  preserving  the  utmost  silence.  Dick  did  not 
ask  another  question.  Talk  and  fellowship  were  over. 
Everything  before  him  now  was  grim  and  menacing. 

The  dense  woods  and  the  darkness  hid  them  so 
securely  that  they  could  not  have  been  seen  twenty 
yards  away,  but  the  men  rode  on  at  a  sure  pace,  as 
if  they  knew  the  ground  well.  The  silence  was  deep 
and  intense,  save  for  the  footsteps  of  the  horses  and 
now  and  then  a  night  bird  in  the  tall  trees  calling. 

Before  they  had  gone  far  a  man  stepped  from  a 
thicket  and  held  up  a  rifle. 

"Four  men  from  the  Orphan  Brigade  with  a  pris- 
oner," said  Robertson. 

"Advance  with  the  prisoner,"  said  the  picket,  and 
the  four  men  rode  forward.  Dick  saw  to  both  left 
and  right  other  pickets,  all  in  the  gray  uniform  of 
the  South,  and  his  heart  grew  cold  within  him.  The 
hair  on  his  head  prickled  again  at  its  roots,  and  it  was 
a  dreadful  sensation.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Why  these 
Southern  pickets  within  cannon  shot  of  the  Northern 
lines  ? 

The  men  rode  slowly  on.  They  were  in  the  deep 

279 


THE   GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

forest,  but  the  young  prisoner  began  to  see  many 
things  under  the  leafy  canopy.  On  his  right  the  dim, 
shadowy  forms  of  hundreds  of  men  lay  sleeping  on 
the  grass.  On  his  left  was  a  massed  battery  of  great 
guns,  eight  in  number. 

Further  and  further  they  went,  and  there  were 
soldiers  and  cannon  everywhere,  but  not  a  fire.  There 
was  no  bed  of  coals,  not  a  single  torch  gleamed  any- 
where. Not  all  the  soldiers  were  sleeping,  but  those 
who  were  awake  never  spoke.  Silence  and  darkness 
brooded  over  a  great  army  in  gray.  It  was  as  if  they 
marched  among  forty  thousand  phantoms,  row  on 
row. 

The  whole  appalling  truth  burst  in  an  instant  upon 
the  boy.  The  Southern  army,  which  they  had  sup- 
posed was  at  Corinth,  lay  in  the  deep  woods  within 
cannon  shot  of  its  foe,  and  not  a  soul  in  all  Grant's 
thousands  knew  of  its  presence  there !  And  Buell  was 
still  far  away !  It  seemed  to  Dick  that  for  a  little  space 
his  heart  stopped  beating.  He  foresaw  it  all,  the  ter- 
rible hammer-stroke  at  dawn,  the  rush  of  the  fiery 
South  upon  her  unsuspecting  foe,  and  the  cutting 
down  of  brigades,  before  sleep  was  gone  from  their 
eyes. 

Not  in  vain  had  the  South  boasted  that  Johnston 
was  a  great  general.  He  had  not  been  daunted  by 
Donelson.  While  his  foe  rested  on  his  victory  and 
took  his  ease,  he  was  here  with  a  new  army,  ready  to 
strike  the  unwary.  Dick  shivered  suddenly,  and,  with 
a  violent  impulse,  clutched  the  waist  of  the  man  in 
front  of  him.  It  may  have  been  some  sort  of  physical 

280 


IN    THE    FOREST 

telepathy,  but  Robertson  understood.    He  turned  his 
head  and  said  in  a  whisper : 

"You're  right  The  whole  Southern  army  is  here 
in  the  woods,  an'  we'd  rather  lose  a  brigade  tonight 
than  let  you  escape." 

Dick  felt  a  thrill  of  the  most  acute  agony.  If  he 
could  only  escape!  There  must  be  some  way!  If  he 
could  but  find  one!  His  single  word  would  save  the 
lives  of  thousands  and  prevent  irreparable  defeat! 
Again  he  clutched  the  waist  of  the  man  in  front  of 
him  and  again  the  man  divined. 

"It  ain't  no  use,"  he  said,  although  his  tone  was 
gentle,  and  in  a  way  sympathetic.  "After  all,  it's  your 
own  fault.  You  blundered  right  in  our  way,  an'  we 
had  to  take  you  for  fear  you'd  see  us,  an'  give  the 
alarm.  It  was  your  unlucky  chance.  You'd  give  a 
million  dollars  if  you  had  it  to  slip  out  of  our  hands 
and  tell  Ulysses  Grant  that  Albert  Sidney  Johnston 
with  his  Vhole  army  is  lay  in'  in  the  woods  right  along- 
side of  him,  ready  to  jump  on  his  back  at  dawn,  an' 
he  not  knowin*  it" 

"I  would,"  said  Dick  fervently. 

"An'  so  would  I  if  I  was  in  your  place.  Just  think, 
Mr.  Mason,  that  of  all  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
men  in  the  Northern  armies,  of  all  the  twenty  or 
twenty-five  million  people  on  the  Northern  side,  there's 
just  one,  that  one  a  boy,  and  that  boy  you,  who  knows 
that  Albert  Sidney  Johnston  is  here." 

''Held  fast  as  I  am,  I'm  sorry  now  that  I  do  know 
it" 

"I  can't  say  that  I  blame  you.    I  said  you'd  give  a 

281 


million  dollars  to  be  able  to  tell,  but  if  you're  to  meas- 
ure such  things  with  money  it  would  be  worth  a  hun- 
dred million  an'  more,  yes,  it  would  be  cheap  at  three 
or  four  hundred  millions  for  the  North  to  know  it. 
But,  after  all,  you  can't  measure  such  things  with 
money.  Maybe  you  think  I  talk  a  heap,  but  I'm  stirred 
some,  too." 

They  rode  on  a  little  farther  over  the  hilly  ground, 
covered  with  thick  forest  or  dense,  tall  scrub.  But 
there  were  troops,  troops,  everywhere,  and  now  and 
then  the  batteries.  They  were  mostly  boys,  like  their 
antagonists  of  the  North,  and  the  sleep  of  most  of 
them  was  the  sleep  of  exhaustion,  after  a  forced  and 
rapid  march  over  heavy  ground  from  Corinth.  But 
Dick  knew  that  they  would  be  fresh  in  the  morning 
when  they  rose  from  the  forest,  and  rushed  upon  their 
unwarned  foe. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  DARK  EVE  OF  SHILOH 

DICK  noticed  as  they  went  further  into  the  for- 
est how  complete  was  the  concealment  of  a 
great  army,  possible  only  in  a  country  wooded 
so  heavily,  and  in  the  presence  of  a  careless  enemy. 
The  center  was  like  the  front  of  the  Southern  force. 
Not  a  fire  burned,  not  a  torch  gleamed.  The  horses 
were  withdrawn  so  far  that  stamp  or  neigh  could  not 
be  heard  by  the  Union  pickets. 

"We'll  stop  here,"  said  Robertson  at  length.  "As 
you're  a  Kentuckian,  I  thought  it  would  be  pleasanter 
for  you  to  be  handed  over  to  Kentuckians.  The  Or- 
phan Brigade  to  which  I  belong  is  layin'  on  the  ground 
right  in  front  of  us,  an'  the  first  regiment  is  that  of 
Colonel  Kenton.  I'll  hand  you  over  to  him,  an' — 
not  'cause  I've  got  anything  ag'inst  you — I'll  be 
mighty  glad  to  do  it,  too,  'cause  my  back  is  already 
nigh  breakin'  with  the  responsibility." 

Dick  started  violently. 

"What's  hit  you?"  asked  Robertson. 

"Oh,  nothing.     You  see,  I'm  nervous." 

"You  ain't  tellin'  the  truth.  But  I  don't  blame  you 
283 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

an'  it  don't  matter  anyway.     Here  we  are.     Jump 
down." 

Dick  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  the  others  followed. 
While  they  held  the  reins  they  stood  in  a  close  circle 
about  him.  He  had  about  as  much  chance  of  escape 
as  he  had  of  flying. 

Robertson  walked  forward,  saluted  some  one  who 
stood  up  in  the  dark,  and  said  a  few  words  in  a  low 
tone. 

"Bring  him  forward,"  said  a  clear  voice,  which  Dick 
recognized  at  once. 

The  little  group  of  men  opened  out  and  Dick,  step- 
ping forth,  met  his  uncle  face  to  face.  It  was  now 
the  time  of  Colonel  George  Kenton  to  start  violently. 

"My  God!  You,  Dick!"  he  exclaimed.  "How  did 
you  come  here  ?" 

"I  didn't  come,"  replied  the  boy,  who  was  now 
feeling  more  at  ease.  "I  was  brought  here  by  four 
scouts  of  yours,  who  I  must  say  saw  their  duty  and 
did  it." 

Colonel  Kenton  grasped  his  hand  and  shook  it.  He 
was  very  fond  of  this  young  nephew  of  his.  The  mere 
fact  that  he  was  on  the  other  side  did  not  alter  his 
affection. 

"Tell  me  about  it,  Dick,"  he  said.  "And  you,  Ser- 
geant Robertson,  you  and  your  men  are  to  be  thanked 
for  your  vigilance  and  activity.  You  can  go  off  duty. 
You  are  entitled  to  your  rest." 

As  they  withdrew  the  sergeant,  who  passed  by  Dick 
and  who  had  not  missed  a  word  of  the  conversation 
between  him  and  his  uncle,  said  to  him : 

284 


THE    DARK    EVE    OF    SHILOH 

"At  least,  young  sir,  I've  returned  you  to  your  relas- 
tives,  an'  you're  a  minor,  as  I  can  see." 

"It's  so,"  said  Dick  as  the  sergeant  passed  on. 

'They  have  not  ill  treated  you?"  said  Colonel  Keii- 
ton. 

"No,  they've  been  as  kind  as  one  enemy  could  be 
to  another." 

"It  is  strange,  most  strange,  that  you  and  I  should 
meet  here  at  such  a  time.  Nay,  Dick,  I  see  in  it  the 
hand  of  Providence.  You're  to  be  saved  from  what 
will  happen  to  your  army  tomorrow." 

"I'd  rather  not  be  saved  in  this  manner." 

"I  know  it,  but  it.  is  perhaps  the  only  way.  As  sure 
as  the  stars  are  in  Heaven  your  army  will  be  destroyed 
in  the  morning,  an'  you'd  be  destroyed  with  it.  I'm 
fond  of  you,  Dick,  and  so  I'd  rather  you'd  be  in  our 
rear,  a  prisoner,  while  this  is  happening." 

"General  Grant  is  a  hard  man  to  crush." 

"Dick !  Dick,  lad,  you  don't  know  what  you're  talk- 
ing about !  Look  at  the  thing  as  it  stands !  We  know 
everything  that  you're  doing.  Our  spies  look  into  the 
very  heart  of  your  camp.  You  think  that  we  are 
fifty  miles  away,  but  a  cannon  shot  from  the  center 
of  our  camp  would  reach  the  center  of  yours.  Why, 
while  we  are  here,  ready  to  spring,  this  Grant,  of 
whom  you  think  so  much,  is  on  his  way  tonight  to 
the  little  village  of  Savannah  to  confer  with  Buell. 
In  the  dawn  when  we  strike  and  roll  his  brigades  back 
he  will  not  be  here.  And  that's  your  great  general!" 

Dick  knew  that  his  uncle  was  excited.  But  he  had 
full  cause  to  be.  There  was  everything  in  the  situation 

285 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

to  inflame  an  officer's  pride  and  anticipation.  It  was 
not  too  dark  for  Dick  to  see  a  spark  leap  from  his 
eyes,  and  a  sudden  flush  of  red  appear  in  either  tanned 
cheek.  But  for  Dick  the  chill  came  again,  and  once 
more  his  hair  prickled  at  the  roots.  The  ambush  was 
even  more  complete  than  he  had  supposed,  and  General 
Grant  would  not  be  there  when  it  was  sprung. 

"Dick,"  said  Colonel  Kenton,  "I  have  talked  to  you 
as  I  would  not  have  talked  to  anyone  else,  but  even 
so,  I  would  not  have  talked  to  you  as  I  have,  were  not 
your  escape  an  impossibility.  You  are  unharmed,  but 
to  leave  this  camp  you  would  have  to  fly." 

"I  admit  it,  sir." 

"Come  with  me.  There  are  men  higher  in  rank 
than  I  who  would  wish  to  see  a  prisoner  taken  as  you 
were." 

Dick  followed  him  willingly  and  without  a  word. 
Aware  that  he  was  not  in  the  slightest  physical  dan- 
ger he  was  full  of  curiosity  concerning  what  he  was 
about  to  see.  The  words,  "men  higher  in  rank  than 
I,"  whipped  his  blood. 

Colonel  Kenton  led  through  the  darkness  to  a  deep 
and  broad  ravine,  into  which  they  descended.  The 
sides  and  bottom  of  this  ravine  were  clothed  in  bushes, 
and  they  grew  thick  on  the  edges  above.  It  was  much 
darker  here,  but  Dick  presently  caught  ahead  of  him 
the  flicker  of  the  first  light  that  he  had  seen  in  the 
Southern  army. 

The  boy's  heart  began  to  beat  fast  and  hard.  All 
the  omens  foretold  that  he  was  about  to  witness  some- 
thing that  he  could  never  by  any  possibility  forget 

286 


THE    DARK    EVE    OF    SHILOH 

They  came  nearer  to  the  flickering  light,  and  he  made 
out  seated  figures  around  it.  They  were  men  wrapped 
in  cavalry  cloaks,  because  the  night  air  had  now  grown 
somewhat  chill,  and  Dick  knew  instinctively  that  these 
were  the  Southern  generals  preparing  for  the  ham- 
mer-stroke at  dawn. 

A  sentinel,  rifle  in  hand,  met  them.  Colonel  Kenton 
whispered  with  him  a  moment,  and  he  went  to  the 
group.  He  returned  in  a  moment  and  escorted  Dick 
and  his  uncle  forward.  Colonel  Kenton  saluted  and 
Dick  involuntarily  did  the  same. 

It  was  a  small  fire,  casting  only  a  faint  and  flicker- 
ing light,  but  Dick,  his  eyes  now  used  to  the  dusk, 
saw  well  the  faces  of  the  generals.  He  knew  at  once 
which  was  Johnston,  the  chief.  He  seemed  older  than 
the  rest,  sixty  at  least,  but  his  skin  was  clear  and 
ruddy,  and  the  firm  face  and  massive  jaw  showed 
thought  and  power.  Yet  the  countenance  appeared 
gloomy,  as  if  overcast  with  care.  Perhaps  it  was  an- 
other omen ! 

By  the  side  of  Johnston  sat  a  small  but  muscular 
man,  swarthy,  and  in  early  middle  years.  His  face 
and  gestures  when  he  talked  showed  clearly  that  he 
was  of  Latin  blood.  It  was  Beauregard,  the  victor  of 
Bull  Run,  now  second  in  command  here,  and  he  made 
a  striking  contrast  to  the  stern  and  motionless  Ken- 
tuckian  who  sat  beside  him  and  who  was  his  chief. 
There  was  no  uneasy  play  of  Johnston's  hands,  no 
shrugging  of  the  shoulders,  no  jerking  of  the  head. 
He  sat  silent,  his  features  a  mask,  while  he  listened 
to  his  generals. 

287 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

On  the  other  side  was  Braxton  Bragg,  brother-in- 
law  of  Jefferson  Davis,  who  could  never  forget 
Bragg's  kinship,  and  the  service  that  he  had  done 
fifteen  years  before  at  Buena  Vista,  when  he  had 
broken  with  his  guns  the  last  of  Santa  Anna's  squares, 
deciding  the  victory.  By  the  side  of  him  was  Hardee, 
the  famous  tactician,  taught  in  the  best  schools  of 
both  America  and  Europe.  Then  there  was  Polk, 
who,  when  a  youth,  had  left  the  army  to  enter  the 
church  and  become  a  bishop,  and  who  was  now  a  sol- 
dier again  and  a  general.  Next  to  the  bishop-general 
sat  the  man  who  had  been  Vice-President  of  the 
United  States  and  who,  if  the  Democracy  had  held 
together  would  now  have  been  in  the  chair  of  Lincoln, 
John  C.  Breckinridge,  called  by  his  people  the  Mag- 
nificent, commonly  accounted  the  most  splendid  look- 
ing man  in  America. 

"Bring  the  prisoner  forward,  Colonel  Kenton,"  said 
General  Johnston,  a  general  upon  whom  the  South, 
with  justice,  rested  great  hopes. 

Dick  stepped  forward  at  once  and  he  held  himself 
firmly,  as  he  felt  the  eyes  of  the  six  generals  bent 
upon  him.  He  was  conscious  even  at  the  moment  that 
chance  had  given  him  a  great  opportunity.  He  was 
there  to  see,  while  the  military  genius  of  the  South 
planned  in  the  shadow  of  a  dark  ravine  a  blow  which 
the  six  intended  to  be  crushing. 

"Where  was  the  prisoner  taken?"  said  Johnston  to 
Colonel  Kenton. 

"Sergeant  Robertson  and  three  other  men  of  my 
command  seized  him  as  he  was  about  to  enter  the 

288 


THE    DARK   EVE    OF    SHILOH 

Northern  lines.  He  was  coming  from  the  direction 
of  Buell,  where  it  is  likely  that  he  had  gone  to  take 
a  dispatch." 

"Did  you  find  any  answer  upon  him." 

"My  men  searched  him  carefully,  sir,  but  found 
nothing." 

"He  is  in  the  uniform  of  a  staff  officer.  Have  you 
found  to  what  regiment  in  the  Union  army  he  be- 
longs?" 

"He  is  on  the  staff  of  Colonel  Arthur  Winchester, 
who  commands  one  of  the  Kentucky  regiments.  I 
have  also  to  tell  you,  sir,  that  his  name  is  Richard 
Mason,  and  that  he  is  my  nephew." 

"Ah,"  said  General  Johnston,  "it  is  one  of  the  mis- 
fortunes of  civil  war  that  so  many  of  us  fight  against 
our  own  relatives.  For  those  who  live  in  the  border 
states  yours  is  the  common  lot." 

But  Dick  was  conscious  that  the  six  generals  were 
gazing  at  him  with  renewed  interest. 

"Your  surmise  about  his  having  been  to  Buell  is  no 
doubt  correct,"  said  Beauregard  quickly  and  nerv- 
ously. "You  left  General  Buell  this  morning,  did  you 
not,  Mr.  Mason?" 

Dick  remained  silent. 

"It  is  also  true  that  Buell's  army  is  worn  down  by 
his  heavy  march  over  muddy  roads,"  continued  Beau- 
regard  as  if  he  had  not  noticed  Dick's  failure  to  reply. 

Dick's  teeth  were  shut  firmly,  and  he  compressed  his 
lips.  He  stood  rigidly  erect,  gazing  now  at  the  flicker- 
ing flames  of  the  little  fire. 

"I  suggest  that  you  try  him  on  some  other  subject 

289 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

than  Buell,  General  Beauregard,"  said  the  bishop- 
general,  a  faint  twinkle  appearing  in  his  eyes.  John- 
ston sat  silent,  but  his  blue  eyes  missed  nothing. 

"It  is  true  also,  is  it  not,"  continued  Beauregard, 
"that  General  Grant  has  gone  or  is  going  tonight  to 
Savannah  to  meet  General  Buell,  and  confer  with  him 
about  a  speedy  advance  upon  our  army  at  Corinth?" 

Dick  clenched  his  teeth  harder  than  ever,  and  a 
spasm  passed  over  his  face.  He  was  conscious  that 
six  pairs  of  eyes,  keen  and  intent,  ready  to  note  the 
slightest  change  of  countenance  and  to  read  a  meaning 
into  it,  were  bent  upon  him.  It  was  only  by  a  su- 
preme effort  that  he  remained  master  of  himself,  but 
after  the  single  spasm  his  countenance  remained  un- 
moved. 

"You  do  not  choose  to  answer,"  said  Bragg,  always 
a  stern  and  ruthless  man,  "but  we  can  drag  what  you 
know  from  you." 

"I  am  a  prisoner  of  war,"  replied  Dick  steadily.  "I 
was  taken  in  full  uniform.  I  am  no  spy,  and  you 
cannot  ill  treat  me." 

"I  do  not  mean  that  we  would  inflict  any  physical 
suffering  upon  you,"  said  Bragg.  "The  Confederacy 
does  not,  and  will  never  resort  to  such  methods.  But 
you  are  only  a  boy.  We  can  question  you  here,  until, 
through  very  weakness  of  spirit,  you  will  be  glad  to 
tell  us  all  you  know  about  Buell's  or  any  other  North- 
ern force." 

"Try  me,  and  see,"  said  Dick  proudly. 

The  blue  eye  of  the  silent  Johnston  flickered  for 
an  instant. 

290 


THE    DARK   EVE    OF    SHILOH 

"But  it  is  true/'  said  Beauregard,  resuming  his  role 
of  cross-examiner,  "that  your  army,  considering  itself 
secure,  has  not  fortified  against  us?  It  has  dug  no 
trenches,  built  no  earthworks,  thrown  up  no  abatis!" 

The  boy  stood  silent  with  folded  arms,  and  Colonel 
George  Kenton,  standing  on  one  side,  threw  his 
nephew  a  glance  of  sympathy,  tinged  with  admiration. 

"Still  you  do  not  answer,"  continued  Beauregard, 
and  now  a  strong  note  of  irony  appeared  in  his  tone, 
"but  perhaps  it  is  just  as  well.  You  do  your  duty  to 
your  own  army,  and  we  miss  nothing.  You  cannot 
tell  us  anything  that  we  do  not  know  already.  What- 
ever you  may  know  we  know  more.  We  know  to- 
night the  condition  of  General  Grant's  army  better 
than  General  Grant  himself  does.  We  know  how 
General  Buell  and  his  army  stand  better  than  General 
Buell  himself  does.  We  know  the  position  of  your 
brigades  and  the  missing  links  between  them  better 
than  your  own  brigade  commanders  do." 

The  eyes  of  the  Louisianfan  flashed,  his  swarthy 
face  swelled  and  his  shoulders  twitched.  The 
French  blood  was  strong  within  him.  Just  so  might 
some  general  of  Napoleon,  some  general  from  the 
Midi,  have  shown  his  emotion  on  the  eve  of  battle, 
an  emotion  which  did  not  detract  from  courage  and 
resolution.  But  the  Puritan  general,  Johnston,  raised 
a  deprecatory  hand. 

"It  is  enough,  General  Beauregard,"  he  said.  "The 
young  prisoner  will  tell  us  nothing.  That  is  evident. 
As  he  sees  his  duty  he  does  it,  and  I  wish  that  our 
young  men  when  they  are  taken  may  behave  as  well. 

291 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Mr.  Mason,  you  are  excused.  You  remain  in  the 
custody  of  your  uncle,  but  I  warn  you  that  there  is 
none  who  will  guard  better  against  the  remotest  possi- 
bility of  your  escape." 

It  was  involuntary,  but  Dick  gave  his  deepest  mili- 
tary salute,  and  said  in  a  tone  of  mingled  admiration 
and  respect: 

"General  Johnston,  I  thank  you." 

The  commander-in-chief  of  the  Southern  army 
bowed  courteously  in  return,  and  Dick,  following  his 
uncle,  left  the  ravine. 

The  six  generals  returned  to  their  council,  and  the 
boy  who  would  not  answer  was  quickly  forgotten. 
Long  they  debated  the  morrow.  Several  have  left 
accounts  of  what  occurred.  Johnston,  although  he 
had  laid  the  remarkable  ambush,  and  was  expecting 
victory,  was  grave,  even  gloomy.  But  Beauregard, 
volatile  and  sanguine,  rejoiced.  For  him  the  triumph 
was  won  already.  After  their  great  achievement  in 
placing  their  army,  unseen  and  unknown,  within  can- 
non shot  of  the  Union  force,  failure  was  to  him  im- 
possible. 

Breckinridge,  like  his  chief,  Johnston,  was  also 
grave  and  did  not  say  much.  Hardee,  as  became  one 
of  his  severe  military  training,  discussed  the  details, 
the  placing  of  the  brigades  and  the  time  of  attack  by 
each.  Polk,  the  bishop-general,  and  Bragg,  also  had 
their  part. 

As  they  talked  in  low  tones  they  moved  the  men 
over  their  chessboard.  Now  and  then  an  aide  was 
summoned,  and  soon  departed  swiftly  and  in  silence 

292 


THE    DARK   EVE    OF    SHILOH 

to  move  a  battery  or  a  regiment  a  little  closer  to  the 
Union  lines,  but  always  he  carried  the  injunction  that 
no  noise  be  made.  Not  a  sound  that  could  be  heard 
three  hundred  yards  away  came  from  all  that  great 
army,  lying  there  in  the  deep  woods  and  poised  for 
its  spring. 

Meanwhile  security  reigned  in  the  Union  camp. 
The  farm  lads  of  the  west  and  northwest  had  talked 
much  over  their  fires.  They  had  eaten  good  suppers, 
and  by  and  by  they  fell  asleep.  But  many  of  the 
officers  still  sat  by  the  coals  and  discussed  the  march 
against  the  Southern  army  at  Corinth,  when  the  men 
of  Buell  should  join  those  of  Grant.  The  pickets,  al- 
though the  gaps  yet  remained  between  those  of  the 
different  brigades,  walked  back  and  forth  and  won- 
dered at  the  gloom  and  intensity  of  the  woods  in  front 
of  them,  but  did  not  dream  of  that  which  lay  in  the 
heart  of  the  darkness. 

The  Southern  generals  in  the  ravine  lingered  yet  a 
little  longer.  A  diagram  had  been  drawn  upon  a  piece 
of  paper.  It  showed  the  position  of  every  Southern 
brigade,  regiment,  and  battery,  and  of  every  Northern 
division,  too.  It  showed  every  curve  of  the  Tennessee, 
the  winding  lines  of  the  three  creeks,  Owl,  Lick,  and 
Snake,  and  the  hills  and  marshes. 

The  last  detail  of  the  plan  was  agreed  upon  finally, 
and  they  made  it  very  simple,  lest  their  brigades  and 
regiments  should  lose  touch  and  become  confused  in 
the  great  forest.  They  were  to  attack  continually  by 
the  right,  press  the  Union  army  toward  the  right  al- 
ways, in  order  to  rush  in  and  separate  it  from  Pitts- 

293 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

burg  Landing  on  the  Tennessee,  and  from  the  fleet 
and  its  stores.  Then  they  meant  to  drive  it  into  the 
marshes  enclosed  by  the  river  and  Snake  Creek  and 
destroy  it. 

The  six  generals  rose,  leaving  the  little  fire  to  sputter 
out.  General  Johnston  was  very  grave,  and  so  were 
all  the  others  as  they  started  toward  their  divisions, 
except  Beauregard,  who  said  in  sanguine  tones: 

"Gentlemen,  we  shall  sleep  tomorrow  night  in  the 
enemy's  camp." 

Word,  in  the  mysterious  ways  of  war,  had  slid 
through  the  camp  that  the  generals  were  in  council, 
and  many  soldiers,  driven  by  overwhelming  curiosity, 
had  crept  through  the  underbrush  to  watch  the  figures 
by  the  fire  in  the  ravine.  They  could  not  hear,  they 
did  not  seek  to  hear,  but  they  were  held  by  a  sort  of 
spell.  When  they  saw  them  separate,  every  one  mov- 
ing toward  his  own  headquarters,  they  knew  that  there 
was  nothing  to  await  now  but  the  dawn,  and  they 
stole  back  toward  their  own  headquarters. 

Dick  had  gone  with  Colonel  Kenton  to  his  own 
regiment,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Orphan  Brigade, 
and  on  his  way  his  uncle  said : 

"Dick,  you  will  sleep  among  my  own  lads,  and  I 
ask  you  for  your  own  sake  to  make  no  attempt  to 
escape  tonight.  You  would  certainly  be  shot." 

"I  recognize  that  fact,  sir,  and  I  shall  await  a 
better  opportunity." 

"What  to  do  with  you  in  the  morning  I  don't  know, 
but  we  shall  probably  be  able  to  take  care  of  you. 
Meanwhile,  Dick,  go  to  sleep  if  you  can.  See,  our 

294 


THE    DARK    EVE    OF    SHILOH 

boys  are  spread  here  through  the  woods.  If  it  were 
day  you'd  probably  find  at  least  a  dozen  among  them 
whom  you  know,  and  certainly  a  hundred  are  of  blood 
kin  to  you,  more  or  less." 

Dick  saw  the  dim  forms  stretched  in  hundreds  on 
the  ground,  and,  thanking  his  uncle  for  his  kindness, 
he  stretched  himself  upon  an  unoccupied  bit  of  turf 
and  closed  his  eyes.  But  it  was  impossible  for  young 
Richard  Mason  to  sleep.  He  felt  again  that  terrible 
thrill  of  agony,  because  he,  alone,  of  all  the  score  and 
more  of  Northern  millions,  knew  that  the  Southern 
trap  was  about  to  fall,  and  he  could  not  tell. 

Never  was  he  further  from  sleep.  His  nerves 
quivered  with  actual  physical  pain.  He  opened  his 
eyes  again  and  saw  the  dim  forms  lying  in  row  on 
row  as  far  in  the  forest  as  his  eye  could  reach.  Then 
he  listened.  He  might  hear  the  rifle  of  some  picket, 
more  wary  or  more  enterprising  than  the  others, 
sounding  the  alarm.  But  no  such  sound  came  to  his 
ears.  It  had  turned  warmer  again,  and  he  heard  only 
the  Southern  wind,  heavy  with  the  odors  of  grass  and 
flower,  sighing  through  the  tall  forest. 

An  anger  against  his  own  surged  up  in  his  breast 
Why  wouldn't  they  look?  How  could  they  escape 
seeing?  Was  it  possible  for  one  great  army  to  remain 
unknown  within  cannon  shot  of  another  a  whole  night? 
It  was  incredible,  but  he  had  seen  it,  and  he  knew  it. 
Fierce  and  bitter  words  rose  to  his  lips,  but  he  did  not 
utter  them. 

Dick  lay  a  long  time,  with  his  eyes  open,  and  the 
night  was  passing  as  peacefully  as  if  there  would  be 

295 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

no  red  dawn.  Occasionally  he  heard  a  faint  stir  near 
him,  as  some  restless  soldier  turned  on  his  side  in  his 
sleep,  and  now  and  then  a  muttered  word  from  an 
officer  who  passed  near  in  the  darkness. 

Hours  never  passed  more  slowly.  Colonel  Kenton 
had  gone  back  toward  the  Northern  lines,  and  the  boy 
surmised  that  he  would  be  one  of  the  first  in  the 
attack  at  dawn.  He  began  to  wonder  if  dawn  would 
ever  really  come.  Stars  and  a  fair  moon  were  out, 
and  as  nearly  as  he  could  judge  from  them  it  must 
be  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Yet  it  seemed 
to  him  that  he  had  been  lying  there  at  least  twelve 
hours. 

He  shut  his  eyes  again,  but  sleep  was  as  far  from 
him  as  ever.  After  another  long  and  almost  unen- 
durable period  he  opened  them  once  more,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  that  there  was  a  faint  tint  of  gray  in 
the  east.  He  sat  up,  and  looking  a  long  time,  he  was 
sure  of  it.  The  gray  was  deepening  and  broadening, 
and  at  its  center  it  showed  a  tint  of  silver.  The  dawn 
was  at  hand,  and  every  nerve  in  the  boy's  body  thrilled 
with  excitement  and  apprehension. 

A  murmur  and  a  shuffling  sound  arose  all  around 
him.  The  sleepers  were  awake,  and  they  stood  up, 
thousands  of  them.  Cold  food  was  given  to  them, 
and  they  ate  it  hastily.  But  they  fondled  their  rifles 
and  muskets,  and  turned  their  faces  toward  the  point 
where  the  Northern  army  lay,  and  from  which  no 
sound  came. 

Dick  shivered  all  over.  His  head  burned  and  his 
nerves  throbbed.  Too  late  now!  He  had  hoped  alJ 

296 


THE    DARK    EVE    OF    SHILOH 

through  the  long  night  that  something  would  happen 
to  carry  a  warning  to  that  unsuspecting  army.  Noth- 
ing had  happened,  and  in  five  minutes  the  attack  would 
begin. 

He  stood  up  at  his  full  height  and  sought  to  pierce 
with  his  eyes  the  foliage  in  front  of  him,  but  the 
massed  ranks  of  the  Southerners  now  stood  between, 
and  the  batteries  were  wheeling  into  line. 

A  great  throb  and  murmur  ran  through  the  forest. 
Dick  looked  upon  faces  brown  with  the  sun,  and  eyes 
gleaming  with  the  fierce  passion  of  victory  and  re- 
venge. They  were  going  to  avenge  Henry  and  Don- 
elson  and  all  the  long  and  mortifying  retreat  from 
Kentucky.  Dick  saw  them  straining  and  looking 
eagerly  at  their  officers  for  the  word  to  advance. 

As  if  by  a  concerted  signal  the  long  and  mellow 
peal  of  many  trumpets  came  from  the  front,  the  offi- 
cers uttered  the  shout  to  charge,  the  wild  and  terrible 
rebel  yell  swelled  from  forty  thousand  throats,  and  the 
Southern  army  rushed  upon  its  foe. 

The  red  dawn  of  Shiloh  had  come. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  RED  DAWN  OF  SHILOH 

DICK  stood  appalled  when  he  heard  that  ter- 
rible shout  in  the  dawn,  and  the  crash  of 
cannon  and  rifles  rolling  down  upon  the  Union 
lines.  It  was  already  a  shout  of  triumph  and,  as  he 
gazed,  he  saw  through  the  woods  the  red  line  of  flame, 
sweeping  on  without  a  halt. 

The  surprise  had  been  complete.  Hardee,  leading 
the  Southern  advance,  struck  Peabody's  Northern 
brigade  and  smashed  it  up  instantly.  The  men  did 
not  have  time  to  seize  their  rifles.  They  had  no 
chance  to  form  into  ranks,  and  the  officers  themselves, 
as  they  shouted  commands,  were  struck  down.  Men 
killed  or  wounded  were  falling  everywhere.  Almost 
before  they  had  time  to  draw  a  free  breath  the  rem- 
nants of  the  brigade  were  driven  upon  those  behind  it. 

Hardee  also  rushed  upon  Sherman,  but  there  he 
found  a  foe  of  tough  mettle.  The  man  who  had  fore- 
seen the  enormous  extent  of  the  war,  although  taken 
by  surprise,  too,  did  not  lose  his  courage  or  presence 
of  mind.  His  men  had  time  to  seize  their  arms,  and 
he  formed  a  hasty  line  of  battle.  He  also  had  tha 

298 


THE    RED    DAWN   OF    SHILOH 

forethought  to  send  word  to  the  general  in  his  rear 
to  close  up  the  gap  between  him  and  the  next  general 
in  the  line.  Then  he  shifted  one  of  his  own  brigades 
until  there  was  a  ravine  in  front  of  it  to  protect  his 
men,  and  he  hurried  a  battery  to  his  flank. 

Never  was  Napoleon's  maxim  that  men  are  nothing, 
a  man  is  everything,  more  justified,  and  never  did  the 
genuis  of  Sherman  shine  more  brilliantly  than  on  that 
morning.  It  was  he,  alone,  cool  of  mind  and  steady  in 
the  face  of  overwhelming  peril,  who  first  faced  the 
Southern  rush.  He  inspired  his  troops  with  his  own 
courage,  and,  though  pale  of  face,  they  bent  forward 
to  meet  the  red  whirlwind  that  was  rushing  down 
upon  them. 

Like  a  blaze  running  through  dry  grass  the  battle 
extended  in  almost  an  instant  along  the  whole  front, 
and  the  deep  woods  were  filled  with  the  roar  of  eighty 
thousand  men  in  conflict.  And  Grant,  as  at  Donel- 
son,  was  far  away. 

The  thunder  and  blaze  of  the  battle  increased 
swiftly  and  to  a  frightful  extent.  The  Southern  gen- 
erals, eager,  alert  and  full  of  success,  pushed  in  all 
their  troops.  The  surprised  Northern  army  was  giv- 
ing away  at  all  points,  except  where  Sherman  stood. 
Hardee,  continuing  his  rush,  broke  the  Northern  line 
asunder,  and  his  brigades,  wrapping  themselves  around 
Sherman,  strove  to  destroy  him. 

Although  he  saw  his  lines  crumbling  away  before 
him,  Sherman  never  flinched.  The  ravine  in  front  of 
him  and  rough  ground  on  one  side  defended  him  to 
a  certain  extent.  The  men  fired  their  rifles  as  fast 

299 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

as  they  could  load  and  reload,  and  the  cannon  on  their 
flanks  never  ceased  to  pour  shot  and  shell  into  the 
ranks  of  their  opponents.  The  gunners  were  shot 
down,  but  new  ones  rose  at  once  in  their  place.  The 
fiercest  conflict  yet  seen  on  American  soil  was  raging 
here.  North  would  not  yield,  South  ever  rushed  anew 
to  the  attack,  and  a  vast  cloud  of  mingled  flame  and 
smoke  enclosed  them  both. 

Dick  had  stood  as  if  petrified,  staring  at  the  billows 
of  flame,  while  the  thunder  of  great  armies  in  battle 
stunned  his  ears.  He  realized  suddenly  that  he  was 
alone.  Colonel  Kenton  had  said  the  night  before  that 
he  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  him,  but  that  he 
would  find  a  way  in  the  morning.  But  he  had  been 
forgotten,  and  he  knew  it  was  natural  that  he  should 
be.  His  fate  was  but  a  trifle  in  the  mighty  event  that 
was  passing.  There  was  no  time  for  any  one  in  the 
Southern  army  to  bother  about  him. 

Then  he  understood  too,  that  he  was  free.  The 
whole  Orphan  Brigade  had  passed  on  into  the  red  heart 
of  the  battle,  and  had  left  him  there  alone.  Now  his 
mind  leaped  out  of  its  paralysis.  All  his  senses  be- 
came alert.  In  that  vast  whirlwind  of  fire  and  smoke 
no  one  would  notice  that  a  single  youth  was  stealing 
through  the  forest  in  an  effort  to  rejoin  his  own  people. 

Action  followed  swift  upon  thought.  He  curved 
a^out  in  the  woods  and  then  ran  rapidly  toward  the 
point  where  the  fire  seemed  thinnest.  He  did  not  check 
his  pace  until  he  had  gone  at  least  a  mile.  Then  he 
paused  to  see  if  he  could  tell  how  the  battle  was  going. 
Its  roar  seemed  louder  than  ever  in  his  ears,  and  in 

300 


THE    RED   DAWN   OF   SHILOH 

front  of  him  was  a  vast  red  line,  which  extended  an 
unseen  distance  through  the  forest.  Now  and  then 
the  wild  and  thrilling  rebel  yell  rose  above  the  roar  of 
cannon  and  the  crash  of  rifles. 

Dick  saw  with  a  sinking  of  the  heart — and  yet  he 
had  known  that  it  would  be  so — that  the  red  line  of 
flame  had  moved  deeper  into  the  heart  of  the  Northern 
camp.  It  had  passed  the  Northern  outposts  and,  at 
many  points,  it  had  swept  over  the  Northern  center. 
He  feared  that  there  was  but  a  huddled  and  confused 
mass  beyond  it. 

He  saw  something  lying  at  his  feet  It  was  a  Con- 
federate military  cloak  which  some  officer  had  cast 
off  as  he  rushed  to  the  charge.  He  picked  it  up,  threw 
it  about  his  own  shoulders,  and  then  tossed  away  his 
cap.  If  he  fell  in  with  Confederate  troops  they  would 
not  know  him  from  one  of  their  own,  and  it  was  no 
time  now  to  hold  cross-examinations. 

He  took  a  wide  curve,  and,  after  another  mile,  came 
to  a  hillock,  upon  which  he  stood  a  little  while,  pant- 
ing. Again  he  was  appalled  at  the  sight  he  beheld. 
Bull  Run  and  Donelson  were  small  beside  this.  Here 
eighty  thousand  men  were  locked  fast  in  furious  con- 
flict. Raw  and  undisciplined  many  of  these  farmer 
lads  of  the  west  and  south  were,  but  in  battle  they 
showed  a  courage  and  tenacity  not  surpassed  by  the 
best  trained  troops  that  ever  lived. 

The  floating  smoke  reached  Dick  where  he  stood  and 
stung  his  eyes,  and  a  powerful  odor  of  burned  gun- 
powder assailed  his  nostrils.  But  neither  sight  nor 
odors  held  him  back.  Instead,  they  drew  him  on  with 

301 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

overwhelming  force.  He  must  rejoin  his  own  and  do 
his  best  however  little  it  counted  in  the  whole. 

It  was  now  well  on  into  the  morning  of  a  brilliant 
and  hot  Sunday.  He  did  not  know  it,  but  the  combat 
was  raging  fiercest  then  around  the  little  church,  which 
should  have  been  sacred.  Drawing  a  deep  breath  of  an 
air  which  was  shot  with  fire  and  smoke,  and  which 
was  hot  to  his  lungs,  Dick  began  to  run  again.  Almost 
before  he  noticed  it  he  was  running  by  the  side  of  a 
Southern  regiment  which  had  been  ordered  to  veer 
about  and  attack  some  new  point  in  the  Northern  line. 
Keeping  his  presence  of  mind  he  shouted  with  them 
as  they  rushed  on,  and  presently  dropped  away  from 
them  in  the  smoke. 

He  was  conscious  now  of  a  new  danger.  Twigs 
and  bits  of  bark  began  to  rain  down  upon  him,  and 
he  heard  the  unpleasant  whistle  of  bullets  over  his 
head.  They  were  the  bullets  of  his  own  people,  seek- 
ing to  repel  the  Southern  charge.  A  minute  later  a 
huge  shell  burst  near  him,  covering  him  with  flying 
earth.  At  first  he  thought  he  had  been  hit  by  frag- 
ments of  the  shell,  but  when  he  shook  himself  he  found 
that  he  was  all  right. 

He  took  yet  a  wider  curve  and  before  he  was  aware 
of  the  treacherous  ground  plunged  into  a  swamp 
bordering  one  of  the  creeks.  He  stood  for  a  few  mo- 
ments in  mud  and  water  to  his  waist,  but  he  knew  that 
he  had  passed  from  the  range  of  the  Union  fire. 
Twigs  and  bark  no  longer  fell  around  him  and  that 
most  unpleasant  whizz  of  bullets  was  gone. 

He  pulled  himself  out  of  the  mire  and  ran  along  the 
302 


THE    RED   DAWN   OF    SHILOH 

edge  of  the  creek  toward  the  roar  of  the  battle.  He 
knew  now  that  he  had  passed  around  the  flank  of  the 
Southern  army  and  could  approach  the  flank  of  his 
own.  He  ran  fast,  and  then  began  to  hear  bullets 
again.  But  now  they  were  coming  from  the  Southern 
army.  He  threw  away  the  cloak  and  presently  he 
emerged  into  a  mass  of  men,  who,  under  the  continual 
urging  of  their  officers,  were  making  a  desperate 
defense,  firing,  drawing  back,  reloading  and  firing 
again.  In  front,  the  woods  swarmed  with  the  South- 
ern troops  who  drove  incessantly  upon  them. 

Dick  snatched  up  a  rifle — plenty  were  lying  upon  the 
ground,  where  the  owners  had  fallen  with  them — and 
fired  into  the  attacking  ranks.  Then  he  reloaded 
swiftly,  and  pressed  on  toward  the  Union  center. 

"What  troops  are  these?"  he  asked  of  an  officer 
who  was  knotting  a  handkerchief  about  a  bleeding 
wrist 

"From  Illinois.    Who  are  you?" 

"I'm  Lieutenant  Richard  Mason  of  Colonel  Arthur 
Winchester's  Kentucky  regiment.  I  was  taken  pris- 
oner by  the  enemy  last  night,  but  I  escaped  this  morn- 
ing. Do  you  know  where  my  regiment  is?" 

"Keep  straight  on,  and  you'll  strike  it  or  what's 
left  of  it,  if  anything  at  all  is  left.  It's  a  black  day." 

Dick  scarcely  caught  his  last  words,  as  he  dashed  on 
through  bullets,  shell  and  solid  shot  over  slain  men 
and  horses,  over  dismantled  guns  and  gun  carriages, 
and  into  the  very  heart  of  the  flame  and  smoke.  The 
thunder  of  the  battle  was  at  its  height  now,  because  he 
was  in  the  center  of  it.  The  roar  of  the  great  guns 

303 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

was  continuous,  but  the  unbroken  crash  of  rifles  by 
the  scores  of  thousands  was  fiercer  and  more 
deadly. 

The  officer  had  pointed  toward  the  Kentucky  regi- 
ment with  his  sword,  and  following  the  line  Dick  ran 
directly  into  it.  The  very  first  face  he  saw  was  that 
of  Colonel  Winchester. 

"Dick,  my  lad,"  shouted  the  Colonel,  "where  have 
you  come  from?" 

"From  the  Southern  army.  I  was  taken  prisoner 
last  night  almost  within  sight  of  our  own,  but  when 
they  charged  this  morning  they  forgot  me  and  here  I 
am." 

Colonel  Winchester  suddenly  seized  him  by  the 
shoulders  and  pushed  him  down.  The  regiment  was 
behind  a  small  ridge  which  afforded  some  protection, 
and  all  were  lying  down  except  the  senior  officers. 

"Welcome,  Dick,  to  our  hot  little  camp!  Tha 
chances  are  about  a  hundred  per  cent  out  of  a  hun- 
dred per  cent  that  this  is  the  hottest  place  on  the  earth 
today!" 

The  long,  thin  figure  of  Warner  lay  pressed  against 
the  ground.  A  handkerchief,  stained  red,  was  bound 
about  his  head  and  his  face  was  pale,  but  indomitable 
courage  gleamed  from  his  eyes.  Just  beyond  him  was 
Pennington,  unhurt. 

"Thank  God  you  haven't  fallen,  and  that  I've  found 
you!"  exclaimed  Dick. 

"I  don't  know  whether  you're  so  lucky  after  all," 
said  Warner.  "The  Johnnies  have  been  mowing  us 
down.  They  dropped  on  us  so  suddenly  this  morning 

304 


that  they  must  have  been  sleeping  in  the  same  bed 
with  us  last  night,  and  we  didn't  know  it.  I  hear 
that  we're  routed  nearly  everywhere  except  here  and 
where  Sherman  stands.  Look  out!  Here  they  come 
again !" 

They  saw  tanned  faces  and  fierce  eyes  through  the 
smoke,  and  the  bullets  swept  down  on  them  in  showers. 
Lucky  for  them  that  the  little  ridge  was  there,  and 
that  they  had  made  up  their  minds  to  stand  to  the  last. 
They  replied  with  their  own  deadly  fire,  yet  many  fell, 
despite  the  shelter,  and  to  both  left  and  right  the  battle 
swelled  afresh.  Dick  felt  again  that  rain  of  bark  and 
twigs  and  leaves.  Sometimes  a  tree,  cut  through  at  its 
base  by  cannon  balls,  fell  with  a  crash.  Along  the 
whole  curving  line  the  Southern  generals  ever  urged 
forward  their  valiant  troops. 

Now  the  courage  and  skill  of  Sherman  shone  su- 
preme. Dick  saw  h?m  often  striding  up  and  down  the 
lines,  ordering  and  begging  his  men  to  stand  fast,  al- 
though they  were  looking  almost  into  the  eyes  of  their 
enemies. 

The  conflict  became  hand  to  hand,  and  assailant  and 
assailed  reeled  to  and  fro.  But  Sherman  would  not 
give  up.  The  fiercest  attacks  broke  in  vain  on  his  iron 
front.  McClernand,  with  whom  he  had  quarreled  the 
day  before  as  to  who  should  command  the  army  while 
Grant  was  away,  came  up  with  reinforcements,  and 
seeing  what  the  fearless  and  resolute  general  had  done, 
yielded  him  the  place. 

The  last  of  the  charges  broke  for  the  time  upon  Sher- 
man, and  his  exhausted  regiment  uttered  a  shout  of 

305 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

triumph,  but  on  both  sides  of  him  the  Southern  troops 
drove  their  enemy  back  and  yet  further  back.  Breck- 
inridge,  along  Lick  Creek,  was  pushing  everything  be- 
fore him.  The  bishop-general  was  doing  well.  Many 
of  the  Northern  troops  had  not  yet  recovered  from 
their  surprise.  A  general  and  three  whole  regiments, 
struck  on  every  side,  were  captured. 

It  seemed  that  nothing  could  deprive  the  Southern 
army  of  victory,  absolute  and  complete.  General 
Johnston  had  marshalled  his  troops  with  superb  skill, 
and  intending  to  reap  the  full  advantage  of  the  sur- 
prise, he  continually  pushed  them  forward  upon  the 
shattered  Northern  lines.  He  led  in  person  and  on 
horseback  the  attack  upon  the  Federal  center.  Around 
and  behind  him  rode  his  staff,  and  the  wild  rebel  yell 
swept  again  through  the  forest,  when  the  soldiers  saw 
the  stern  and  lofty  features  of  the  chief  whom  they 
trusted,  leading  them  on. 

But  fate  in  the  very  moment  of  triumph  that  seemed 
overwhelming  and  sure  was  preparing  a  terrible  blow; 
for  the  South.  A  bullet  struck  Johnston  in  the  ankle. 
His  boot  filled  with  blood,  and  the  wound  continued  to 
bleed  fast.  But,  despite  the  urging  of  his  surgeon* 
who  rode  with  him,  he  refused  to  dismount  and  have 
the  wound  bound  up.  How  could  he  dismount  at  such 
a  time,  when  the  battle  was  at  its  height,  and  the  Union 
army  was  being  driven  into  the  creeks  and  swamps! 
He  was  wounded  again  by  a  piece  of  shell,  and  he  sank 
dying  from  his  horse.  His  officers  crowded  around 
him,  seeking  to  hide  their  irreparable  loss  from  the  sol- 
diers, the  most  costly  death,  with  the  exception  of 

306 


THE    RED    DAWN    OF    SHILOH 

Stonewall  Jackson's,  sustained  by  the  Confederacy  in 
the  whole  war. 

But  the  troops,  borne  on  by  the  impetus  that  success 
and  the  spirit  of  Johnston  had  given  them,  drove 
harder  than  ever  against  the  Northern  line.  They 
crashed  through  it  in  many  places,  seizing  prisoners 
and  cannon.  Almost  the  whole  Northern  camp  was 
now  in  their  possession,  and  many  of  the  Southern 
lads,  hungry  from  scanty  rations,  stopped  to  seize  the 
plenty  that  they  found  there,  but  enough  persisted  to 
give  the  Northern  army  no  rest,  and  press  it  back  near- 
er and  nearer  to  the  marshes. 

The  combat  redoubled  around  Sherman.  Johnston 
was  gone,  but  his  generals  still  shared  his  resolution. 
They  turned  an  immense  fire  upon  the  point  where 
stood  Sherman  and  McClernand,  now  united  by  immi- 
nent peril.  Their  ranks  were  searched  by  shot  and 
shell,  and  the  bullets  whizzed  among  them  like  a  con- 
tinuous swarm  of  hornets. 

Dick  was  still  unwounded,  but  so  much  smoke  and 
vapor  had  drifted  about  his  face  that  he  was  com- 
pelled at  times  to  rub  his  eyes  that  he  might  see.  He 
felt  a  certain  dizziness,  too,  and  he  did  not  know 
whether  the  incessant  roaring  in  his  ears  came  wholly 
from  the  cannon  and  rifle  fire  or  partly  from  the 
pounding  of  his  blood. 

"I  feel  that  we  are  shaking,"  he  shouted  in  the  ears 
of  Warner,  who  lay  next  to  him.  "I'm  afraid  we're 
going  to  give  ground." 

"I  feel  it,  too,"  Warner  shouted  back.  "We've  been 
here  for  hours,  but  we're  shot  to  pieces.  Half  of  our 

307 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

men  must  be  killed  or  wounded,  but  how  old  Sherman 
fights!" 

The  Southern  leaders  brought  up  fresh  troops  and 
hurled  them  upon  Sherman.  Again  the  combat  was 
hand  to  hand,  and  to  the  right  and  left  the  supports 
of  the  indomitable  Northern  general  were  being  cut 
away.  Those  brigades  who  had  proved  their  mettle 
at  Donelson,  and  who  had  long  stood  fast,  were  at- 
tacked so  violently  that  they  gave  way,  and  the  victors 
hurled  themselves  upon  Sherman's  flank. 

Dick  and  his  two  young  comrades  perceived  through 
the  flame  and  smoke  the  new  attack.  It  seemed  to  Dick 
that  they  were  being  enclosed  now  by  the  whole  South- 
ern army,  and  he  felt  a  sense  of  suffocation.  He  was 
dizzy  from  such  a  long  and  terrible  strain  and  so  much 
danger,  and  he  was  not  really  more  than  half  con- 
scious. He  was  loading  and  firing  his  rifle  mechan- 
ically, but  he  always  aimed  at  something  in  the  red 
storm  before  them,  although  he  never  knew  whether  he 
hit  or  missed,  and  was  glad  of  it. 

The  division  of  Sherman  had  been  standing  there 
seven  hours,  sustaining  with  undaunted  courage  the 
resolute  attacks  of  the  Southern  army,  but  the  sixth 
sense  warning  Dick  that  it  had  begun  to  shake  at  last 
was  true.  The  sun  had  now  passed  the  zenith  and  was 
pouring  intense  and  fiery  rays  upon  the  field,  sometimes 
piercing  the  clouds  of  smoke,  and  revealing  the  faces 
of  the  men,  black  with  sweat  and  burned  gunpowder. 

A  cry  arose  for  Grant.  Why  did  not  their  chief 
show  himself  upon  the  field!  Was  so  great  a  battle  to 
be  fought  with  him  away?  And  where  was  Buell? 

308 


THE    RED    DAWN    OF    SHILOH 

He  had  a  second  great  army.  He  was  to  join  them 
that  day.  What  good  would  it  be  for  him  to  come 
tomorrow?  Many  of  them  laughed  in  bitter  derision. 
And  there  was  Lew  Wallace,  too!  They  had  heard 
that  he  was  near  the  field  with  a  strong  division.  Then 
why  did  he  not  come  upon  it  and  face  the  enemy? 
Again  they  laughed  that  fierce  and  bitter  laugh  deep 
down  in  their  throats. 

The  attack  upon  Sherman  never  ceased  for  an  in- 
stant. Now  he  was  assailed  not  only  from  the  front, 
but  from  both  flanks,  and  some  even  gaining  the  rear 
struck  blows  upon  his  division  there.  One  brigade 
upon  his  left  was  compelled  to  give  way,  scattered,  and 
lost  its  guns.  The  right  wing  was  also  driven  in,  and 
the  center  yielded  slowly,  although  retaining  its  co- 
hesion. 

The  three  lads  were  on  their  feet  now,  and  it  seemed 
to  them  that  everything  was  lost.  They  could  see  the 
battle  in  front  of  them  only,  but  rumors  came  to  them 
that  the  army  was  routed  elsewhere.  But  neither 
Sherman  nor  McClernand  would  yield,  save  for  the 
slow  retreat,  yielding  ground  foot  by  foot  only.  And 
there  were  many  unknown  heroes  around  them.  Ser- 
geant Whitley  blazed  with  courage  and  spirit. 

"We  could  be  worse  off  than  we  are!"  he  shouted 
to  Dick.  "General  Buell's  army  may  yet  come !" 

"Maybe  we  could  be  worse  off  than  we  are,  but  I 
don't  see  how  it's  possible!"  shouted  Dick  in  re- 
turn, a  certain  grim  humor  possessing  him  for  the 
moment. 

"Look!     What   I    said   has    come   true   already!" 

309 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

shouted  the  sergeant.  "Here  is  shelter  that  will  help  us 
to  make  a  new  stand !" 

In  their  slow  retreat  they  reached  two  low  hills,  be- 
tween which  a  small  ravine  ran.  It  was  not  a  strong 
position,  but  Sherman  used  it  to  the  utmost.  His  men 
fired  from  the  protecting  crests  of  the  hills,  and  he 
filled  the  ravine  with  riflemen,  who  poured  a  deadly  fire 
upon  their  assailants. 

Now  Sherman  ordered  them  to  stand  fast  to  the  last 
man,  because  it  was  by  this  road  that  the  division  of 
Lew  Wallace  must  come,  if  it  came  at  all.  But  South- 
ern brigades  followed  them  and  the  battle  raged  anew, 
as  fierce  and  deadly  as  ever. 

Although  their  army  was  routed  at  many  points  the 
Northern  officers  showed  indomitable  courage.  Driven 
back  in  the  forest  they  always  strove  to  form  the  lines 
anew,  and  now  their  efforts  began  to  show  some  suc- 
cess. Their  resistance  on  the  right  hardened,  and  on 
the  left  they  held  fast  to  the  last  chain  of  hills  that 
covered  the  wharves  and  their  stores  at  the  river  land- 
ing. As  they  took  position  here  two  gunboats  in  the 
river  began  to  send  huge  shells  over  their  heads  at  the 
attacking  Southern  columns,  maintaining  a  rapid  and 
heavy  fire  which  shook  assailants  and  strengthened 
defenders.  Again  the  water  had  come  to  the  help  of 
the  North,  and  at  the  most  critical  moment.  The  whole 
Northern  line  was  now  showing  a  firmer  front,  and 
Grant,  himself,  was  directing  the  battle. 

Fortune,  which  had  played  a  game  with  Grant  at 
Donelson,  played  a  far  greater  one  with  him  on  the  far 
greater  field  of  Shiloh.  The  red  dawn  of  Shiloh,  when 

310 


THE    RED    DAWN    OF    SHILOH 

Johnston  was  sweeping  his  army  before  him,  had 
found  him  at  Savannah  far  from  the  field  of  battle. 
The  hardy  and  vigorous  Nelson  had  arrived  there  in 
the  night  with  Buell's  vanguard,  and  Grant  had  or- 
dered it  to  march  at  speed  the  next  day  to  join  his  own 
army.  But  he,  himself,  did  not  reach  the  field  of  Shiloh 
until  10  o'clock,  when  the  fiercest  battle  yet  known  on 
the  American  continent  had  been  raging  for  several 
hours. 

Grant  and  his  staff,  as  they  rode  away  from  his 
headquarters,  heard  the  booming  of  cannon  in  the  di- 
rection of  Shiloh.  Some  of  them  thought  it  was  a 
mere  skirmish,  but  it  came  continuously,  like  rolling 
thunder,  and  their  trained  ears  told  them  that  it  rose 
from  a  line  miles  in  length.  One  seeks  to  penetrate 
the  mind  of  a  commanding  general  at  such  a  time, 
and  see  what  his  feelings  were.  Again  the  battle  had 
been  joined,  and  was  at  its  height,  and  he  away ! 

Those  trained  ears  told  him  also  that  the  rolling 
thunder  of  the  cannon  was  steadily  moving  toward 
them.  It  could  mean  only  that  the  Northern  army  had 
been  driven  from  its  camp  and  that  the  Southern  army 
was  pushing  its  victory  to  the  utmost.  In  those  mo- 
ments his  agony  must  have  been  intense.  His  great 
army  not  9nly  attacked,  but  beaten,  and  he  not  there! 
He  and  his  staff  urged  their  horses  forward,  seeking 
to  gain  from  them  new  ounces  of  speed,  but  the  coun- 
try was  difficult.  The  hills  were  rough  and  there  were 
swamps  and  mire.  And,  as  they  listened,  the  roar  of 
battle  steadily  came  nearer  and  nearer.  There  was  no 
break  in  the  Northern  retreat.  The  sweat,  not  of  heat 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

but  of  mental  agony,  stood  upon  their  faces.  Grant 
was  not  the  only  one  who  suffered. 

Now  they  met  some  of  those  stragglers  who  flee 
from  every  battlefield,  no  matter  what  the  nation. 
Their  faces  were  white  with  fear  and  they  cried  out 
that  the  Northern  army  was  destroyed.  Officers 
cursed  them  and  struck  at  them  with  the  flats  of  their 
swords,  but  they  dodged  the  blows  and  escaped  into 
the  bushes.  There  was  no  time  to  pursue  them.  Grant 
and  his  staff  never  ceased  to  ride  toward  the  storm  of 
battle  which  raged  far  and  wide  around  the  little 
church  of  Shiloh. 

The  stream  of  fugitives  increased,  and  now  they  saw 
swarms  of  men  who  stood  here  and  there,  not  running, 
but  huddled  and  irresolute.  Never  did  Fortune,  who 
brought  this,  her  favorite,  from  the  depths,  bring  him 
again  in  her  play  so  near  to  the  verge  of  destruction. 
When  he  came  upon  the  field,  the  battle  seemed  wholly 
lost,  and  the  whole  world  would  have  cried  that  he 
was  to  blame. 

But  the  bulldog  in  Grant  was  never  of  stauncher 
breed  than  on  that  day.  His  face  turned  white,  and 
he  grew  sick  at  the  sight  of  the  awful  slaughter.  A 
bullet  broke  the  small  sword  at  his  side,  but  he  did  not 
flinch.  Preserving  the  stern  calm  that  always  marked 
him  on  the  field  he  began  to  form  his  lines  anew  and 
strengthen  the  weaker  points. 

Yet  the  condition  of  his  army  would  have  appalled  a 
weaker  will.  It  had  been  driven  back  three  miles.  His 
whole  camp  had  been  taken.  His  second  line  also  had 
been  driven  in.  Many  thousands  of  men  had  fallen  s~rd 

312 


THE    RED    DAWN   OF    SHILOH 

other  thousands  had  been  taken.  Thirty  of  his  can- 
non were  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  although 
noon  had  now  come  and  gone  there  was  no  sound  to 
betoken  the  coming  of  the  troops  led  by  Wallace  or 
Nelson.  Well  might  Grant's  own  stout  heart  have 
shrunk  appalled  from  the  task  before  him. 

Wallace  was  held  back  by  confused  orders,  pardon- 
able at  such  a  time.  The  eager  Nelson  was  detained 
at  Savannah  by  Buell,  who  thought  that  the  sounds  of 
the  engagement  they  heard  in  the  Shiloh  woods  was  a 
minor  affair,  and  who  wanted  Nelson  to  wait  for 
boats  to  take  him  there. 

It  seemed  sometimes  to  Dick  long  afterward,  when 
the  whole  of  the  great  Shiloh  battle  became  clear,  that 
Fortune  was  merely  playing  a  game  of  chess,  with  the 
earth  as  a  board,  and  the  armies  as  pawns.  Grant's 
army  was  ambushed  with  its  general  absent.  The 
other  armies  which  were  almost  at  hand  were  delayed 
for  one  reason  or  another.  While  as  for  the  South, 
the  genius  that  had  planned  the  attack  and  that  had 
carried  it  forward  was  quenched  in  death,  when  vic- 
tory was  at  its  height. 

But  for  the  present  the  lad  had  little  time  for  such 
thoughts  as  these.  The  success  of  Sherman  in  hold- 
ing the  new  position  infused  new  courage  into  him  and 
those  around  him.  The  men  in  gray,  wearied  with 
their  immense  exertions,  and  having  suffered  frightful 
losses  themselves,  abated  somewhat  the  energy  and 
fierceness  of  their  attack. 

The  dissolved  Northern  regiments  had  time  to  re- 
-form. Grant  seized  a  new  position  along  a  line  of 

313 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

hills,  in  front  of  which  ran  a  deep  ravine  filled  with 
brushwood.  He  and  his  officers  appreciated  the  ad- 
vantage and  they  massed  the  troops  there  as  fast  as 
they  could. 

Now  Fortune,  after  having  brought  Grant  to  the 
verge  of  the  pit,  was  disposed  to  throw  chances  in  his 
way.  The  hills  and  the  ravine  were  one.  Another, 
and  most  important  it  was,  was  the  presence  of  guns 
of  the  heaviest  calibre  landed  some  days  ago  from 
the  fleet,  and  left  there  until  their  disposition  could  be 
determined.  A  quick-witted  colonel,  Webster  by 
name,  gathered  up  all  the  gunners  who  had  lost  their 
own  guns  and  who  had  been  driven  back  in  the  re- 
treat, and  manned  this  great  battery  of  siege  guns,  just 
as  the  Southern  generals  were  preparing  to  break  down 
the  last  stand  of  the  North. 

Meanwhile,  a  terrible  rumor  had  been  spreading  in 
the  ranks  of  the  Southern  troops.  The  word  was 
passed  from  soldier  to  soldier  that  their  commander, 
Johnston,  whom  they  had  believed  invincible,  had  been 
killed,  and  they  did  not  trust  so  much  Beauregard, 
who  was  left  in  command,  nor  those  who  helped. 
Their  fiery  spirit  abated  somewhat  There  was  no 
decrease  of  courage,  but  continuous  victory  did  not 
seem  so  easy  now. 

Confusion  invaded  the  triumphant  army  also.  Beau- 
regard  had  divided  the  leadership  on  the  field  among 
three  of  his  lieutenants.  Hardee  now  urged  on  the 
center,  Bragg  commajnded  the  right,  and  Polk,  the 
bishop-general,  led  the  left.  It  was  Bragg's  divi- 
sion that  was  about  to  charge  the  great  battery  of  siege 


THE    RED    DAWN    OF    SHILOH 

guns  that  the  alert  Webster  had  manned  so  quickly. 
Five  minutes  more  and  Webster  would  have  been  too 
late.  Here  again  were  the  fortunes  of  Grant  brought 
to  the  very  verge  of  the  pit.  The  Northern  gunboats 
at  the  mouth  of  Lick  Creek  moved  forward  a  little, 
and  their  guns  were  ready  to  support  the  battery. 

The  Kentucky  regiment  was  wedged  in  between  the 
battery  and  a  brigade,  and  it  was  gasping  for  breath. 
Colonel  Winchester,  slightly  wounded  in  three  places, 
commanded  his  men  to  lie  down,  and  they  gladly  threw 
themselves  upon  the  earth. 

There  was  a  momentary  lull  in  the  battle.  Wander- 
ing winds  caught  up  the  banks  of  smoke  and  carried 
most  of  them  away.  Dick,  as  he  rose  a  little,  saw  the 
Southern  troops  massing  in  the  forest  for  an  attack 
upon  their  new  position.  They  seemed  to  be  only  a 
few  yards  away  and  he  clearly  observed  the  officers 
walking  along  the  front  of  the  lines.  It  flashed  upon 
him  that  they  must  hold  these  hills  or  Grant's  army 
would  perish.  Where  was  Buell?  Why  did  he  not 
come?  If  the  Southerners  destroyed  one  Northern 
army  today  they  would  destroy  another  tomorrow  f 
They  would  break  the  two  halves  of  the  Union  force 
in  the  west  into  pieces,  first  one  and  then  the  other. 

"What  do  you  see,  Dick?"  asked  Warner,  who  was 
lying  almost  flat  upon  his  face. 

"The  Confederate  army  is  getting  ready  to  wipe  us 
off  the  face  of  the  earth !  Up  with  your  rifle,  George ! 
They'll  be  upon  us  in  two  minutes !" 

They  heard  a  sudden  shout  behind  them.  It  was  a 
glad  shout,  and  well  it  might  be.  Nelson,  held  back 

315 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

by  Buell's  orders,  had  listened  long  to  the  booming  of 
the  cannon  off  in  the  direction  of  Shiloh.  Nothing 
could  convince  him  that  a  great  battle  was  not  going 
on,  and  all  through  the  morning  he  chafed  and  raged. 
And  as  the  sound  of  the  cannon  grew  louder  he  be- 
lieved that  Grant's  army  was  losing. 

Nelson  obtained  Buell's  leave  at  last  to  march  for 
Shiloh,  but  it  was  a  long  road  across  hills  and  creeks 
and  through  swamps.  The  cannon  sank  deep  in  the 
mire,  and  then  the  ardent  Nelson  left  them  behind. 
Now  he  knew  there  was  great  need  for  haste.  The 
flashing  and  thundering  in  front  of  them  showed  to 
the  youngest  soldier  in  his  command  that  a  great  bat- 
tle was  in  progress,  and  that  it  was  going  against  the 
North.  His  division  at  last  reached  Pittsburg  Landing 
and  was  carried  across  the  river  in  the  steamers.  One 
brigade  led  by  Ammen  outstripped  the  rest,  and  rushed 
in  behind  the  great  battery  and  to  its  support,  just  as 
the  Southern  bugles  once  more  sounded  the  charge. 

Dick  shouted  with  joy,  too,  when  he  saw  the  new 
troops.  The  next  moment  the  enemy  was  upon  them, 
charging  directly  through  a  frightful  discharge  from 
the  great  guns.  The  riddled  regiments,  which  had 
fought  so  long,  gave  way  before  the  bayonets,  but  the 
fresh  troops  took  their  places  and  poured  a  terrible 
fire  into  the  assaulting  columns.  And  the  great  guns 
of  the  battery  hurled  a  new  storm  of  shell  and  solid 
shot.  The  ranks  of  the  Southern  troops,  worn  by  a 
full  day  of  desperate  fighting,  were  broken.  They  had 
crossed  the  ravine  into  the  very  mouths  of  the  North- 
ern guns,  but  now  they  were  driven  back  into  the  ra- 

316 


THE    RED    DAWN    OF    SHILOH 

vine  and  across  it.  Cannon  and  rifles  rained  missiles 
upon  them  there,  and  they  withdrew  into  the  woods, 
while  for  the  first  time  in  all  that  long  day  a  shout 
of  triumph  rose  from  the  Union  lines. 

Another  lull  came  in  the  battle. 

"What  are  they  doing  now,  Dick?"  asked  the  Ver- 
monter. 

"I  can't  see  very  well,  but  they  seem  to  be  gathering 
in  the  forest  for  a  fresh  attack.  Do  you  know, 
George,  that  the  sun  is  almost  down  ?" 

"It's  certainly  time.  It's  been  at  least  a  month  since 
the  Johnnies  ran  out  of  the  forest  in  the  dawn,  and 
jumped  on  us." 

It  was  true  that  the  day  was  almost  over,  although 
but  few  had  noticed  the  fact.  The  east  was  already 
darkening,  and  a  rosy  glow  from  the  west  fell  across 
the  torn  forest.  Here  and  there  a  dead  tree,  set  on 
fire  by  the  shells,  burned  slowly,  little  flames  creeping 
along  trunk  and  boughs. 

Bragg  was  preparing  to  hurl  his  entire  force  upon 
Sherman  and  the  battery.  At  that  moment  Beaure- 
gard,  now  his  chief,  arrived.  But  a  few  minutes  of 
daylight  were  left  and  the  swarthy  Louisianian  looked 
at  the  great  losses  in  his  own  ranks.  He  believed  that 
the  army  of  Buell  was  so  far  away  that  it  could  not 
arrive  that  night  and  he  withheld  the  charge. 

The  Southern  army  withdrew  a  little  into  the  woods, 
the  night  rushed  down,  and  Shiloh's  terrible  first  day 
was  over. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

THE    FIERCE    FINISH    OF   SHILOH 

DICK,  who  had  been  lying  under  cover  just 
behind  the  crest  of  one  of  the  low  ridges,  sud- 
denly heard  the  loud  beating  of  his  heart.    He 
did  not  know,  for  a  moment  or  two,  that  the  sound 
came  so  distinctly  because  the  mighty  tumult  which 
had  been  raging  around  him  all  day  had  ceased,  as  if 
by  a  concerted  signal.    Those  blinding  flashes  of  flame 
no  longer  came  from  the  forest  before  him,  the  shot 
and  shell  quit  their  horrible  screaming,  and  the  air  was 
free  from  the  unpleasant  hiss  of  countless  bullets. 

He  stretched  himself  a  little  and  stood  up.  The  lads 
all  around  him  were  standing  up,  and  were  beginning 
to  talk  to  each  other  in  the  high-pitched,  shouting 
voices  that  they  had  been  compelled  to  use  all  day  long, 
not  yet  realizing  to  the  full  that  the  tumult  of  the  bat- 
tle had  ceased.  The  boy  felt  stiff  and  sore  in  every 
bone  and  muscle,  and,  although  the  cannon  and  rifles 
were  silent,  there  was  still  a  hollow  roaring  in  his  ears. 
His  eyes  were  yet  dim  from  the  smoke,  and  his  head 
felt  heavy  and  dull.  He  gazed  vacantly  at  the  forest 
in  front  of  him,  and  wondered  dimly  why  the  South- 
ern army  was  not  still  there,  attacking,  as  it  had  at- 
tacked for  so  many  hours. 


THE    FIERCE    FINISH    OF    SHILOH 

But  the  deep  woods  were  silent  and  empty.  Coils 
and  streamers  of  smoke  floated  about  among  the  trees, 
and  suddenly  a  gray  squirrel  hopped  out  on  a  bough 
and  began  to  chatter  wildly.  Dick,  despite  himself, 
laughed,  but  the  laugh  was  hysterical.  He  could  ap- 
preciate the  feelings  of  the  squirrel,  which  probably 
had  been  imprisoned  in  a  hollow  of  the  tree  all  day 
long,  listening  to  this  tremendous  battle,  and  squirrels 
were  not  used  to  such  battles.  It  was  a  trifle  that 
made  him  laugh,  but  everything  was  out  of  proportion 
now.  Life  did  not  go  on  in  the  usual  way  at  all.  The 
ordinary  occupations  were  gone,  and  people  spent  most 
of  their  time  trying  to  kill  one  another. 

He  rubbed  his  hands  across  his  eyes  and  cleared 
them  of  the  smoke.  The  battle  was  certainly  over  for 
the  day  at  least,  and  neither  he  nor  his  comrades  had 
sufficient  vitality  yet  to  think  of  the  morrow.  The  twi- 
light was  fast  deepening  into  night.  The  last  rosy 
glow  of  the  sun  faded,  and  thick  darkness  enveloped 
the  vast  forest,  in  which  twenty  thousand  men  had 
fallen,  and  in  which  most  of  them  yet  lay,  the  wounded 
with  the  dead. 

There  was  presently  a  deep  boom  from  the  river, 
and  a  shell  fired  by  one  of  the  gunboats  curved  far 
over  their  heads  and  dropped  into  the  forest,  where  the 
Southern  army  was  encamped.  All  through  the  night 
and  at  short  but  regular  intervals  the  gunboats  main- 
tained this  warning  fire,  heartening  the  Union  sol- 
diers, and  telling  them  at  every  discharge  mat  however 
they  might  have  to  fight  for  the  land,  the  water  was 
always  theirs. 

319 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

Dick  saw  Colonel  Winchester  going  among  his  men, 
and  pulling  himself  together  he  saluted  his  chief. 

"Any  orders,  sir?"  he  said. 

"No,  Dick,  my  boy,  none  for  the  present,"  replied 
the  colonel,  a  little  sadly.  "Half  of  my  poor  regiment 
is  killed  or  wounded,  and  the  rest  are  so  exhausted  that 
they  are  barely  able  to  move.  But  they  fought  mag- 
nificently, Dick!  They  had  to,  or  be  crushed!  It  is 
only  here  that  we  have  withstood  the  rush  of  the 
Southern  army,  and  it  is  probable  that  we,  too,  would 
have  gone  had  not  night  come  to  our  help. " 

"Then  we  have  been  beaten?" 

"Yes,  Dick,  we  have  been  beaten,  and  beaten  badly. 
It  was  the  surprise  that  did  it.  How  on  earth  we  could 
have  let  the  Southern  army  creep  upon  us  and  strike 
unaware  I  don't  understand.  But  Dick,  my  boy,  there 
will  be  another  battle  tomorrow,  and  it  may  tell  a 
different  tale.  Some  prisoners  whom  we  have  taken 
say  that  Johnston  has  been  killed,  and  Beauregard  is 
no  such  leader  as  he." 

"Will  the  army  of  General  Buell  reach  us  tonight?'* 

"Buell,  himself,  is  here.  He  has  been  with  Grant 
for  some  time,  and  all  his  brigades  are  marching  at 
the  double  quick.  Lew  Wallace  arrived  less  than  half 
an  hour  ago  with  seven  thousand  men  fresh  and  eager 
for  battle.  Dick!  Dick,  my  boy,  we'll  have  forty 
thousand  new  troops  on  the  field  at  the  next  dawn,  and 
before  God  we'll  wipe  out  the  disgrace  of  today! 
Listen  to  the  big  guns  from  the  boats  as  they  speak  at 
intervals !  Why,  I  can  understand  the  very  words  they 
speak !  They  are  saying  to  the  Southern  army :  'Look 

320 


THE    FIERCE    FINISH    OF    SHILOH 

out!  Look  out!  We're  coming  in  the  morning,  and 
it's  we  who'll  attack  now !' ' 

Dick  saw  that  Colonel  Winchester  himself  was  ex- 
cited. The  pupils  of  his  eyes  were  dilated,  and  a  red 
spot  glowed  in  either  cheek.  Like  all  the  other  officers 
he  was  stung  by  the  surprise  and  defeat,  and  he  could 
barely  wait  for  the  morning  and  revenge. 

Colonel  Winchester  walked  away  to  a  council  that 
had  been  called,  and  Dick  turned  to  Pennington  and 
Warner,  who  were  not  hurt,  save  for  slight  wounds. 
Warner  had  recovered  his  poise,  and  was  soon  as  calm 
and  dry  as  ever. 

"Dick,"  he  said,  "we're  some  distance  from  where 
we  started  this  morning.  There's  nothing  like  being 
shoved  along  when  you  don't  want  to  go.  The  next 
time  they  tell  me  there's  nothing  in  a  thicket  I  expect 
to  search  it  and  find  a  rebel  army  at  least  a  hundred 
thousand  strong  right  in  the  middle  of  it." 

"How  large  do  you  suppose  the  Southern  army 
was?"  asked  Pennington. 

"I  had  a  number  of  looks  at  it,"  replied  Warner, 
"and  I  should  say  from  the  way  it  acted  that  it  num- 
bered at  least  three  million  men.  I  know  that  at  times 
not  less  than  ten  thousand  were  aiming  their  rifles  at 
my  own  poor  and  unworthy  person.  What  a  waste 
of  energy  for  so  many  men  to  shoot  at  me  all  at 
once.  I  wish  the  Johnnies  would  go  away  and  let  us 
alone!" 

The  last  words  were  high-pitched  and  excited.  His 
habitual  self-control  broke  down  for  a  moment,  and 
the  tremendous  excitement  and  nervous  tension  of  the 

321 


day  found  vent  in  his  voice.  But  in  a  few  seconds  he 
recovered  himself  and  looked  rather  ashamed. 

"Boys,"  he  said,  "I  apologize." 

"You  needn't,"  said  Pennington.  "There  have  been 
times  today  when  I  felt  brave  as  a  lion,  and  lots  of 
other  times  I  was  scared  most  to  death.  It  would  have 
helped  me  a  lot  then,  if  I  could  have  opened  my  mouth 
and  yelled  at  the  top  of  my  voice." 

Sergeant  Daniel  Whitley  was  leaning  against 
a  stump,  and  while  he  was  calmly  lighting  a  pipe 
he  regarded  the  three  boys  with  a  benevolent 
gaze. 

"None  of  you  need  be  ashamed  of  bein'  scared,"  he 
said.  "I've  been  in  a  lot  of  fights  myself,  though  all 
of  them  were  mere  skirmishes  when  put  alongside  of 
this,  an'  I've  been  scared  a  heap  today.  I've  been 
scared  for  myself,  an'  I've  been  scared  for  the  regi- 
ment, an'  I've  been  scared  for  the  whole  army,  an* 
I've  been  scared  on  general  principles,  but  here  we 
are,  alive  an'  kickin',  an'  we  ought  to  feel  powerful 
thankful  for  that." 

"We  are,"  said  Dick.  Then  he  rubbed  his  head  as 
if  some  sudden  thought  had  occurred  to  him. 

"What  is  it,  Dick?"  asked  Warner. 

"I've  realized  all  at  once  that  I'm  tremendously 
hungry.  The  Confederates  broke  up  our  breakfast. 
We  never  had  time  to  think  of  dinner,  and  now  its 
nothing  to  eat." 

"Me,  too,"  said  Pennington.  "If  you  were  to  hit 
me  in  the  stomach  I'd  give  back  a  hollow  sound  like 
a  drum.  Why  don't  somebody  ring  the  supper  bell?" 

322 


tTHE    FIERCE   FINISH    OF    SHILOH 

But  fires  were  soon  lighted  along  their  whole  front, 
and  provisions  were  brought  up  from  the  rear  and 
from  the  steamers.  The  soldiers,  feeling  their  strength 
returning,  ate  ravenously.  They  also  talked  much  of 
the  battle.  Many  of  them  were  yet  under  the  influence 
of  hysterical  excitement.  They  told  extraordinary 
stories  of  the  things  they  had  seen  and  done,  and  they 
believed  all  they  told  were  true.  They  ate  fiercely,  at 
first  almost  like  wolves,  but  after  a  while  they  resolved 
into  their  true  state  as  amiable  young  human  beings 
and  were  ashamed  of  themselves. 

All  the  while  Buell's  army  of  the  Ohio  was  passing 
over  the  river  and  joining  Grant's  army  of  the  Ten- 
nessee. Regiment  after  regiment  and  brigade  after 
brigade  crossed.  The  guns  that  Nelson  had  been  forced 
to  leave  behind  were  also  brought  up  and  were  taken 
over  with  the  other  batteries.  While  the  shattered 
remnants  of  the  army  of  the  Tennessee  were  resting, 
the  fresh  army  of  the  Ohio  was  marching  by  it  in  the 
late  hours  of  the  night  in  order  to  face  the  Southern 
foe  in  the  morning. 

The  Southern  army  itself  lay  deep  in  the  woods 
from  which  it  had  driven  its  enemy.  Always  the 
assailant  through  the  day,  its  losses  had  been  immense. 
Many  thousands  had  fallen,  and  no  new  troops  were 
coming  to  take  their  place.  Continual  reinforcements 
came  to  the  North  throughout  the  night,  not  a  soldier 
came  to  the  South.  Beauregard,  at  dawn,  would  have 
to  face  twice  his  numbers,  at  least  half  of  whom  were 
fresh  troops. 

Another  conference  was  held  by  the  Southern  gen- 

323 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

erals  in  the  forest,  but  now  the  central  figure,  the  great 
Johnston,  was  gone.  The  others,  however,  summoned 
their  courage  anew,  and  passed  the  whole  night  ar- 
ranging their  forces,  cheering  the  men,  and  preparing 
for  the  morn.  Their  scouts  and  skirmishers  kept  watch 
on  the  Northern  camp,  and  the  Southerners  believed 
that  while  they  had  whipped  only  one  army  the  day 
before,  they  could  whip  two  on  the  morrow. 

Dick  and  his  friends  meanwhile  were  lying  on  the 
earth,  resting,  but  not  able  to  sleep.  The  nerves, 
drawn  so  tightly  by  the  day's  work,  were  not  yet  re- 
laxed wholly.  A  deep  apathy  seized  them  all.  Dick, 
from  a  high  point  on  which  he  lay,  saw  the  dark  sur- 
face of  the  Tennessee,  and  the  lights  on  the  puffing 
steamers  as  they  crossed,  bearing  the  Army  of  the 
Ohio.  His  mind  did  not  work  actively  now,  but  he 
felt  that  they  were  saved.  The  deep  river,  although 
it  was  on  their  flank,  seemed  to  flow  as  a  barrier 
against  the  foe,  and  it  was,  in  fact,  a  barrier  more 
and  more,  as  without  its  command  the  second  Union 
army  could  never  have  come  to  the  relief  of  the 
first 

Dick,  after  a  while,  saw  Colonel  Winchester,  and 
other  officers  near  him.  They  were  talking  of  their 
losses.  They  gave  the  names  of  many  generals  and 
colonels  who  had  been  killed.  Presently  they  moved 
away,  and  he  fell  into  an  uneasy  sleep,  or  rather  doze, 
from  which  he  was  awakened  after  a  while  by  a  heavy 
rumbling  sound  of  a  distant  cannonade. 

The  boy  sprang  up,  wondering  why  any  one  should 
wish  to  renew  the  battle  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and 

324 


THE   FIERCE   FINISH   OF   SHILOH 

then  he  saw  that  it  was  no  battle.  The  sound  was 
thunder  rolling  heavily  on  the  southern  horizon,  and 
the  night  had  become  very  dark.  Vivid  flashes  of 
lightning  cut  the  sky,  and  a  strong  wind  rushed  among 
the  trees.  Heavy  drops  of  water  struck  him  in  the 
face  and  then  the  rain  swept  down. 

Dick  did  not  seek  protection  from  the  storm,  nor 
did  any  of  those  near  him.  The  cool  drops  were  grate- 
ful to  their  faces  after  the  heat  and  strife  of  the  day. 
Their  pulses  became  stronger,  and  the  blood  flowed  in 
a  quickened  torrent  through  their  veins.  They  let  it 
pour  upon  them,  merely  seeking  to  keep  their  ammuni- 
tion dry. 

Ten  thousand  wounded  were  yet  lying  untouched  in 
the  forest,  but  the  rain  was  grateful  to  them,  too. 
When  they  could  they  turned  their  fevered  faces  up 
to  it  that  it  might  beat  upon  them  and  bring  grateful 
coolness. 

Deep  in  the  night  a  council  like  that  of  the  Southern 
generals  was  held  in  the  Northern  camp,  also.  Grant, 
his  face  an  expressionless  mask,  presided,  and  said  but 
little.  Buell,  Sherman,  McClernand,  Nelson,  Wallace 
and  others,  were  there,  and  Buell  and  Sherman,  like 
their  chief,  spoke  little.  The  three  men  upon  whom 
most  rested  were  very  taciturn  that  night,  but  it 
is  likely  that  extraordinary  thoughts  were  passing  in 
the  minds  of  every  one  of  the  three. 

Grant,  after  a  day  in  which  any  one  of  a  dozen 
chances  would  have  wrecked  him,  must  have  concluded 
that  in  very  deed  and  truth  he  was  the  favorite  child 
of  Fortune.  When  one  is  saved  again  and  again  from 

325 


THE    GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

the  very  verge  he  begins  to  believe  that  failure  is  im- 
possible, and  in  that  very  belief  lies  the  greatest  guard 
against  failure. 

It  is  said  of  Grant  that  in  the  night  after  his  great 
defeat  around  the  church  of  Shiloh,  he  was  still  con- 
fident, that  he  told  his  generals  they  would  certainly 
win  on  the  morrow,  and  he  reminded  them  that  if  the 
Union  army  had  suffered  terribly,  the  Southern  army 
must  have  suffered  almost  equally  so,  and  would  face 
them  at  dawn  with  numbers  far  less  than  their  own. 
He  had  not  displayed  the  greatest  skill,  but  he  had 
shown  the  greatest  moral  courage,  and  now  on  the 
night  between  battles  it  was  that  quality  that  was 
needed  most. 

Dick,  not  having  slept  any  the  night  before,  and 
having  passed  through  a  day  of  fierce  battle,  was  over- 
come after  midnight,  and  sank  into  a  sleep  that  was 
mere  lethargy.  He  awoke  once  before  dawn  and  re- 
membered, but  vaguely,  all  that  had  happened.  Yet 
he  was  conscious  that  there  was  much  movement  in  the 
forest  He  heard  the  tread  of  many  feet,  the  sound 
of  commands,  the  neigh  of  horses  and  the  rumbling  of 
cannon  wheels.  The  Army  of  the  Ohio  was  passing 
to  the  exposed  flank  of  the  Army  of  the  Tennessee 
and  at  dawn  it  would  all  be  in  line.  He  als.o  caught 
flitting  glimpses  of  the  Tennessee,  and  of  the  steamers 
loaded  with  troops  still  crossing,  and  he  heard  the 
boom  of  the  heavy  cannon  on  the  gunboats  which  still, 
at  regular  and  short  intervals,  sent  huge  shells  curving 
into  the  forest  toward  the  camp  of  the  Southern  army. 
He  also  saw  near  him  Warner  and  Pennington  sound 

326 


THE    FIERCE    FINISH    OF    SHILOH 

asleep  on  the  ground,  and  then  he  sank  back  into  his 
own  lethargic  slumber. 

He  was  awakened  by  the  call  of  a  trumpet,  and,  as 
he  rose,  he  saw  the  whole  regiment  or  rather,  what  was 
left  of  it,  rising  with  him.  It  was  not  yet  dawn,  and 
a  light  rain  was  falling,  but  smoldering  fires  disclosed 
the  ground  for  some  distance,  and  also  the  river  on 
which  the  gunboats  and  transports  were  now  gathered 
in  a  fleet 

Colonel  Winchester  beckoned  to  him. 

"All  right  this  morning,  Dick?"  he  said. 

"Yes,  sir;  I'm  ready  for  my  duty." 

"And  you,  too,  Warner  and  Pennington?" 

"We  are,  sir,"  they  replied  together. 

"Then  keep  close  beside  me.  I  don't  know  when  I 
may  want  you  for  a  message.  Daybreak  will  be  here 
in  a  half  hour.  The  entire  Army  of  the  Ohio,  led  by 
General  Buell  in  person  will  be  in  position  then  or 
very  shortly  afterward,  and  a  new,  and,  we  hope,  a 
very  different  battle  will  begin." 

Food  and  coffee  were  served  to  the  men,  and  while 
the  rain  was  still  falling  they  formed  in.  line  and 
awaited  the  dawn.  The  desire  to  retrieve  their  for- 
tunes was  as  strong  among  the  farmer  lads  as  it  was 
among  the  officers  who  took  care  to  spread  among 
them  the  statement  that  Buell's  army  alone  was  as 
numerous  as  the  Southern  force,  and  probably  more 
numerous  since  their  enemy  must  have  sustained  terri- 
ble losses.  Thus  they  stood  patiently,  while  the  rain 
thinned  and  the  sun  at  last  showed  a  red  edge  through 
floating  clouds. 

327 


They  waited  yet  a  little  while  longer,  and  then  the 
boom  of  a  heavy  gun  in  the  forest  told  them  that  the 
enemy  was  advancing  to  begin  the  battle  afresh. 
Again  it  was  the  Southern  army  that  attacked,  although 
it  was  no  surprise  now.  Yet  Beauregard  and  his  gen- 
erals were  still  sanguine  of  completing  the  victory. 
Their  scouts  and  skirmishers  had  failed  to  discover 
that  the  entire  army  of  Buell  also  was  now  in  front 
of  them. 

Bragg  was  gathering  his  division  on  the  left  to  hurl 
it  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  Grant's  shattered  brigades. 
Hardee  and  the  bishop-general  were  in  the  center,  and 
Breckinridge  led  the  right  But  as  they  moved  for- 
ward to  attack  the  Union  troops  came  out  to  meet 
them.  Nelson  had  occupied  the  high  ground  between 
Lick  and  Owl  Creeks,  and  his  and  the  Southern  troops 
met  in  a  fierce  clash  shortly  after  dawn. 

'Beauregard,  drawn  by  the  firing  at  that  point,  and 
noticing  the  courage  and  tenacity  with  which  the 
Northern  troops  held  their  ground,  sending  in  volley 
after  volley,  divined  at  once  that  these  were  not  the 
beaten  troops  of  the  day  before,  but  new  men.  This 
swarthy  general,  volatile  and  dramatic,  nevertheless 
had  great  penetration.  He  understood  on  the  instant 
a  fact  that  his  soldiers  did  not  comprehend  until  later. 
He  knew  that  the  whole  army  of  Buell  was  now 
before  him. 

For  the  moment  it  was  Beauregard  and  Buell  who 
were  the  protagonists,  instead  of  Grant  and  Johnston 
as  on  the  day  before.  The  Southern  leader  gathered 
all  his  forces  and  hurled  them  upon  Nelson.  Weary 

328 


THE    FIERCE    FINISH    OF    SHILOH 

though  the  Southern  soldiers  were,  their  attack  was 
made  with  utmost  fire  and  vigor.  A  long  and  furious 
combat  ensued.  A  Southern  division  under  Cheatham 
rushed  to  the  help  of  their  fellows.  Buell's  forces 
were  driven  in  again  and  again,  and  only  his  heavy 
batteries  enabled  him  to  regain  his  lost  ground. 

Buell  led  splendid  troops  that  he  had  trained  long 
and  rigidly,  and  they  had  not  been  in  the  conflict  the 
day  before.  Fresh  and  with  unbroken  ranks,  not  a 
man  wounded  or  missing,  they  had  entered  the  battle 
and  both  Grant  and  Buell,  as  well  as  their  division 
commanders,  expected  an  easy  victory  where  the  Army 
of  the  Ohio  stood. 

Buell,  to  his  amazement,  saw  himself  reduced  to  the 
defensive.  He  and  Grant  had  reckoned  that  the  deci- 
mated brigades  of  the  South  could  not  stand  at  all 
before  him,  but  just  as  on  the  first  day  they  came  on 
with  the  fierce  rebel  yell,  hurling  themselves  upon  su- 
perior numbers,  taking  the  cannon  of  their  enemy, 
losing  them,  and  retaking  them  and  losing  them  again, 
but  never  yielding. 

The  great  conflict  increased  in  violence.  Buell,  a 
man  of  iron  courage,  saw  that  his  soldiers  must  fight 
to  the  uttermost,  not  for  victory  only,  but  even  to  ward 
off  defeat  The  dawn  was  now  far  advanced.  The 
rain  had  ceased,  and  the  sun  again  shot  down  sheaves 
of  fiery  rays  upon  a  vast  low  cloud  of  fire  and  smoke 
in  which  thousands  of  men  met  in  desperate  combat. 

Nine  o'clock  came.  It  had  been  expected  by  Grant 
that  Buell  long  before  that  time  would  have  swept 
everything  before  him.  But  for  three  hours  Buell  had 

329 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

been  fighting  to  keep  himself  from  being  swept  away. 
The  Southern  troops  seemed  animated  by  that  extra- 
ordinary battle  fever  and  absolute  contempt  of  death 
which  distinguished  them  so  often  during  this  war. 
Buell's  army  was  driven  in  on  both  flanks,  and  only 
the  center  held  fast.  It  began  to  seem  possible  that 
the  South,  despite  her  reduced  ranks  might  yet  defeat 
both  Northern  armies.  Another  battery  dashed  up 
to  the  relief  of  the  men  in  blue.  It  was  charged  at 
once  by  the  men  in  gray  so  fiercely  that  the  gunners 
were  glad  to  escape  with  their  guns,  and  once  more  the 
wild  rebel  yell  of  triumph  swelled  through  the  south- 
ern forest. 

Dick,  standing  with  his  comrades  on  one  of  the 
ridges  that  they  had  defended  so  well,  listened  to  the 
roar  of  conflict  on  the  wing,  ever  increasing  in  volume, 
and  watched  the  vast  clouds  of  smoke  gathering  over 
the  forest.  He  could  see  from  where  he  stood  the 
flash  of  rifle  fire  and  the  blaze  of  cannon,  and  both  eye 
and  ear  told  him  that  the  battle  was  not  moving  back 
upon  the  South. 

"It  seems  that  we  do  not  make  headway,  sir,"  he 
said  to  Colonel  Winchester,  who  also  stood  by  him, 
looking  and  listening. 

"Not  that  I  can  perceive,"  replied  the  colonel,  "and 
yet  with  the  rush  of  forty  thousand  fresh  troops 
of  ours  upon  the  field  I  deemed  victory  quick  and  easy. 
How  the  battle  grows!  How  the  South  fights!" 

Colonel  Winchester  walked  away  presently  and 
joined  Sherman,  who  was  eagerly  watching  the  mighty 
conflict,  into  which  he  knew  that  his  own  worn  and 

330 


THE    FIERCE    FINISH    OF    SHILOH 

shattered  troops  must  sooner  or  later  be  drawn.  He 
walked  up  and  down  in  front  of  his  lines,  saying 
little  but  seeing  everything.  His  tall  form  was  seen 
by  all  his  men.  He,  too,  must  have  felt  a  singular 
thrill  at  that  moment.  He  must  have  known  that  his 
star  was  rising.  He,  more  than  any  other,  with  his 
valor,  penetrating  mind  and  decision  had  saved  the 
Northern  army  from  complete  destruction  the  first  day 
at  Shiloh.  He  had  not  been  able  to  avert  defeat,  but 
he  had  prevented  utter  ruin.  His  division  alone  had 
held  together  in  the  face  of  the  Southern  attack  until 
night  came. 

Sherman  must  have  recalled,  too,  how  his  state- 
ment that  the  North  would  need  200,000  troops  in  the 
west  alone  had  been  sneered  at,  and  he  had  been  called 
mad.  But  he  neither  boasted  not  predicted,  continu- 
ing to  watch  intently  the  swelling  battle. 

"I  had  enough  fighting  yesterday  to  last  me  a  hun- 
dred years,"  said  Warner  to  Dick,  "but  it  seems  that 
I'm  to  have  more  today.  If  the  Johnnies  had  any 
regard  for  the  rules  of  war  they'd  have  retreated  long 
ago." 

"We'll  win  yet,"  said  Dick  hopefully,  "but  I  don't 
think  we  can  achieve  any  big  victory.  Look,  there's 
General  Grant  himself." 

Grant  was  passing  along  his  whole  line.  While 
leaving  the  main  battle  to  Buell  he  retained  general 
command  and  watched  everything.  He,  too,  observed 
the  failure  of  Buell's  army  to  drive  the  enemy  before 
them,  and  he  must  have  felt  a  sinking  of  the  heart, 
but  he  did  not  show  it  Instead  he  spoke  only  of  vic- 

331 


THE    GUNS    OF    SHILOH 

tory,  when  he  made  any  comment  at  all,  and  sent  the 
members  of  his  staff  to  make  new  arrangements.  He 
must  bring  into  action  every  gun  and  man  he  had  or 
he  would  yet  lose. 

It  was  now  10  o'clock  and  the  new  battle  had  lasted 
with  the  utmost  fury  and  desperation  for  four  hours. 
Dick,  after  General  Grant  rode  on,  felt  as  if  a  sudden 
thrill  had  run  through  the  whole  army.  He  saw  men 
rising  from  the  earth  and  tightening  their  belts.  He 
saw  gunners  gathering  around  their  guns  and  making 
ready  with  the  ammunition.  He  knew  the  remains  of 
Grant's  army  were  about  to  march  upon  the  enemy, 
helping  the  Army  of  the  Ohio  to  achieve  the  task  that 
had  proved  so  great. 

Sherman,  McClernand  and  other  generals  now 
passed  among  their  troops,  cheering  them,  telling  them 
that  the  time  had  come  to  win  back  what  they  had  lost 
the  day  before,  and  that  victory  was  sure.  They  called 
upon  them  for  another  great  effort,  and  a  shout  rolled 
along  the  line  of  willing  soldiers. 

Sherman's  whole  division  now  raised  itself  up  and 
rushed  at  the  enemy,  Dick  and  his  comrades  in  the 
front  of  their  own  regiment.  The  whole  Northern 
line  was  now  engaged.  Grant,  true  to  his  resolution, 
had  hurled  every  man  and  every  gun  upon  his  foe. 

The  Southern  generals  felt  the  immense  weight  of 
the  numbers  that  were  now  driving  down  upon  them. 
Their  decimated  ranks  could  not  withstand  the  charge 
of  two  armies.  In  the  center  where  Buell's  men,  hav- 
ing stood  fast  from  the  first,  were  now  advancing,  they 
were  compelled  to  give  way  and  lost  several  guns.  On 

332 


THE    FIERCE    FINISH    OF    SHILOH 

the  wings  the  heavy  Northern  brigades  were  advancing 
also,  and  the  whole  Southern  line  was  pushed  back. 
So  much  inferior  was  the  South  in  numbers  that  her 
enemy  began  to  overlap  her  on  the  flanks  also. 

A  tremendous  shout  of  exultation  swept  through  the 
Northern  ranks,  as  they  felt  themselves  advancing. 
The  promises  of  their  generals  were  coming  true,  and 
there  is  nothing  sweeter  than  victory  after  defeat 
Fortune,  after  frowning  upon  her  so  long,  was  now 
smiling  upon  the  North.  The  exultant  cheer  swept 
through  the  ranks  again,  and  back  came  the  defiant 
rebel  yell. 

A  young  soldier  often  feels  what  is  happening  with 
as  true  instinct  as  a  general.  Dick  now  knew  that  the 
North  would  recover  the  field,  and  that  the  South, 
cut  down  fearfully,  though  having  performed  prodi- 
gies of  valor,  must  fight  to  save  herself.  He  felt  that 
the  resistance  in  front  of  them  was  no  longer  invin- 
cible. He  saw  in  the  flash  of  the  firing  that  the 
Southern  ranks  were  thin,  very  thin,  and  he  knew  that 
there  was  no  break  in  their  own  advance. 

Now  the  sanguine  Northern  generals  planned  the 
entire  destruction  of  the  Southern  army.  There  was 
only  one  road  by  which  Beauregard  could  retreat  to 
Corinth.  A  whole  Northern  division  rushed  in  to 
block  the  way.  Sherman,  in  his  advance,  came  again 
to  the  ground  around  the  little  Methodist  chapel  of 
Shiloh  which  he  had  defended  so  well  the  day  before, 
and  crowded  his  whole  force  upon  the  Southern  line 
at  that  point.  Once  more  the  primitive  church  in  the 
woods  looked  down  upon  one  of  the  most  sanguinary 

333 


THE   GUNS   OF    SHILOH 

conflicts  of  the  whole  war.  If  Sherman  could  break 
through  the  Southern  line  here  Beauregard's  whole 
army  would  be  lost 

But  the  Southern  soldiers  were  capable  of  another 
and  a  mighty  effort.  Their  generals  saw  the  danger 
and  acted  with  their  usual  promptness  and  decision. 
They  gathered  together  their  shattered  brigades  and 
hurled  them  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the  Union  left 
and  center.  The  shock  was  terrific.  Sherman,  with 
all  his  staunchness  and  the  valor  of  his  men,  was  com- 
pelled to  give  way.  McClernand,  too,  reeled  back, 
others  were  driven  in  also.  Whole  brigades  and  regi- 
ments were  cut  to  pieces  or  thrown  in  confusion.  The 
Southerners  cut  a  wide  gap  in  the  Northern  army, 
through  which  they  rushed  in  triumph,  holding  the 
Corinth  road  against  every  attack  and  making  their 
rear  secure. 

Sherman's  division,  after  its  momentary  repulse, 
gathered  itself  anew,  and,  although  knowing  now  that 
the  Southern  army  could  not  be  entrapped,  drove  again 
with  all  its  might  upon  the  positions  around  the  church. 
They  passed  over  the  dead  of  the  day  before,  and  gath- 
ered increasing  vigor,  as  they  saw  that  the  enemy  was 
slowly  drawing  back. 

Grant  reformed  his  line,  which  had  been  shattered 
by  the  last  fiery  and  successful  attack  of  the  South. 
Along  the  whole  long  line  the  trumpets  sang  the  charge, 
and  brigades  and  batteries  advanced. 

But  the  end  of  Shiloh  was  at  hand.  Despite  the 
prodigies  of  valor  performed  by  their  men,  the  South- 
ern generals  saw  that  they  could  not  longer  hold  the 

334 


THE    FIERCE   FINISH   OF    SHILOH 

field.  The  junction  of  Grant  and  Buell,  after  all, 
proved  too  much  for  them.  The  bugles  sounded  the 
retreat,  and  reluctantly  they  gave  up  the  ground  which 
they  had  won  with  so  much  courage  and  daring.  They 
retreated  rather  as  victors  than  defeated  men,  present- 
ing a  bristling  front  to  the  enemy  until  their  regiments 
were  lost  in  the  forest,  and  beating  off  every  attempt 
of  skirmishers  or  cavalry  to  molest  them. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  when  the  last 
shot  was  fired,  and  the  Southern  army  at  its  leisure 
resumed  its  march  toward  Corinth,  protected  on  the 
flanks  by  its  cavalry,  and  carrying  with  it  the  assur- 
ance that  although  not  victorious  over  two  armies  it 
had  been  victorious  over  one,  and  had  struck  the  most 
stunning  blow  yet  known  in  American  history. 

When  the  last  of  the  Southern  regiments  disap- 
peared in  the  deep  woods,  Dick  and  many  of  those 
around  him  sank  exhausted  upon  the  ground.  Even 
had  they  been  ordered  to  follow  they  would  have  been 
incapable  of  it.  Complete  nervous  collapse  followed 
such  days  and  nights  as  those  through  which  they  had 
passed. 

Nor  did  Grant  and  Buell  wish  to  pursue.  Their 
armies  had  been  too  terribly  shaken  to  make  another 
attack.  Nearly  fifteen  thousand  of  their  men  had  fallen 
and  the  dead  and  wounded  still  lay  scattered  widdy 
through  the  woods.  The  South  had  lost  almost  as 
many.  Nearly  a  third  of  her  army  had  been  killed 
or  wounded  in  the  battle,  and  yet  they  retired  in  good 
order,  showing  the  desperate  valor  of  these  sons  of 
hers. 

335 


The  double  army  which  had  saved  itself,  but  which 
had  yet  been  unable  to  destroy  its  enemy,  slept  that 
night  in  the  recovered  camp.  The  generals  discussed 
in  subdued  tones  their  narrow  escape,  and  the  soldiers, 
who  now  understood  very  well  what  had  happened, 
talked  of  it  in  the  same  way. 

"We  knew  that  it  was  going  to  be  a  big  war,"  said 
Dick,  "but  it's  going  to  be  far  bigger  than  we  thought." 

"And  we  won't  make  that  easy  parade  down  to  the 
Gulf,"  said  Warner.  "I'm  thinking  that  a  lot  of  lions 
are  in  the  path." 

"But  we'll  win !"  said  Dick.  "In  the  end  we'll  surely 
win!" 

Then  after  dreaming  a  little  with  his  eyes  open  he 
fell  asleep,  gathering  new  strength  for  mighty  cam* 
paigns  yet  to  come. 


(10) 


THE  END 


ESTABLISHED  FAVORITES  FOR  BOYS 


THE  YOUNG  TRAILERS  SERIES 
By  JOSEPH  A.  ALTSHELER 

Using  the  stirring  facts  of  American  history  and  the 
romance  of  real  frontier  life,  Joseph  Altsheler  writes 
in  the  Young  Trailers  Series  (eight  books  which  may 
be  read  independently),  tales  of  thrilling,  daring  and 
actual  achievement. 

THE  HALF  BACK 

By  RALPH  HENRY  BARBOUR 

In  this,  the  most  famous  of  all  his  famous  stories 
of  school  and  college  life  and  sport,  Barbour  com- 
bines the  sound  ideals  and  the  exciting  incidents  which 
have  made  him  a  favorite. 

LITTLE  SMOKE 
By  W.  O.  STODDARD 

There  is  always  keen  interest  in  an  Indian  story. 
Little  Smoke  gives  a  real  picture  of  Indian  life,  and 
at  a  stirring  and  significant  time — that  of  the  Custer 
Massacre. 

HIGH  BENTON 
By  WILLIAM  HEYLIGER 

"School's  too  slow,  I  want  to  go  to  work,"  said  Steve 
Benton.  What  he  learned  by  following  that  course 
is  told  in  an  unusual  and  splendid  story — a  real  novel 
for  boys. 

THE  SUBSTITUTE 
By  WALTER  CAMP 

The  great  Yale  athletic  authority  puts  all  his  knowl- 
edge of  football,  of  college  and  the  men  who  go  there, 
and  all  his  magnificent  sportsmanship  in  this  rousing 
story. 

LITTLE  JARVIS 

By  MOLLY  ELLIOTT  SEA  WELL 

A  little  known  but  truly  heroic  incident  from  the 
records  of  our  navy.  A  true  story  of  the  sea,  of  war- 
ships, of  battle,  and  of  glorious  devotion  to  duty. 


D.    APPLETON   AND    COMPANY 
New  York  London 


University  of  California 

~. LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    001020159    8 

LOS  ANGELES 


BEVERLY  iilLL-S 
School  District  Library 


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3  1970  01770  8253 


